Rise of the Alchemists
by pinktwirlz
Summary: In a tale of magic, adventure, and danger, the story of Harry Potter lives on in the Rise of the Alchemists, following the adventure of Harry's son and his life at school. But when practitioners of a dead art start popping up left and right, Albus's school life may not be everything he had planned...
1. Diagon Alley

Rise of the Alchemists: Chapter 1 – Diagon Alley

Writing belongs to NovaMagma deviantart and PinkTwirlz at FanFiction

Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Not me. I'm not cool enough.

* * *

The world is a strange place. A place that holds many secrets. Magic is one such secret.

You see, unbeknownst to most "normal" people of the world is existence of witches and wizards in their midst. These spell-casters, who call themselves part of the Wizarding World, are able to manipulate their life energies, and channel them through instruments (wands) to bend the world around them using incantations (such as spells.)

As was to be expected, the people of the Wizarding World found themselves superior to Muggles (non magic folk) in almost every way. It was a widely accepted wizarding law, upheld and enforced by the Ministry of Magic, that no witch or wizard shall ever reveal themselves to a Muggle, except in very extreme circumstances.

The Wizarding World, like every established civilization, had a government, an economy, education systems, and most unfortunately of all: wars.

Usually such wars occurred when a very skillful wizard, usually with unpleasant upbringings, became power hungry and decided domination sounded like a good idea. In the best cases, all out war could be avoided, and threats were stomped out. In others, the conflict could stretch on for decades at a time.

Perhaps the most famous Wizarding War of all time was the war started by the Dark Lord Voldemort, a villain so dreadful, most wizards won't even dare speak his name. The Dark Lord, who feared death and sought immortality, cast his reign for eleven long years before finally coming to his demise at the hand of a small child by the name of Harry Potter. Voldemort eventually did rise to power again after over a decade, only to be stomped down again by Potter and his friends, thus ending the darkest of all wizarding times.

Harry Potter was seventeen when he defeated Voldemort permanently, having earned various titles throughout his life such as "the Boy Who Lived" or "the Chosen One." He, as well as his two friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, found themselves yearning for quiet lives after the end of their ordeal, and quiet lives they had. Harry married Ron's sister, Ginny, and had three children: James, after his father, Albus Severus, after two headmasters of his school, and Lily, after his mother. Hermione and Ron had two children as well: Rose and Hugo.

And this is where our story begins. With the tale of Albus Severus Potter.

Albus was a relatively normal young boy. He grew up the shadows of his family. His parents fought in the Second Wizarding War; his father alone defeated Voldemort with his bare hands. His aunt was widely accepted as the most intelligent witch of her generation, and his namesakes were widely renowned for their impact on wizarding society. Even his brother, James, had made a reputation for himself at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rivaling that of even the Marauders or the Weasley Twins.

Despite this, he grew up relatively normally. Like most wizarding children, he went to a pre-term schooling program for wizards under the age of eleven, where he learned basic math, writing, and history. When he received his letter of acceptance to Hogwarts, no one was surprised. He was, after all, an extremely talented boy.

As was to be expected from the son of Harry Potter.

* * *

"Hey! Heyy! Wait up!" Albus called out in desperation. "Don't leave me behind here!"

"Well, walk faster then!" James taunted in return.

Albus sent the best scowl he could to his older brother while navigating through the crowds of Diagon Alley. He managed to catch up to his family, though nearly dropping his new supplies in the process.

"Al? Al where are you?" His mother called out absentmindedly as she rummaged through her purse. "Do you have your list?"

"Of course, Mum." Al had kept his list in pristine condition ever since receiving it. It contained everything he needed to know about all the school supplies he would need for the upcoming year at Hogwarts. Ginny reached out for the list, and Al reluctantly gave it to her.

"Well, we already have all your robes and clothing ready. I suppose our next stop will be Flourish and Blotts. Harry...Harry? Harry what are you–oh there you are, Harry get over here. Take Al and James to Flourish and Blotts will you? I promised Lily she could stop by Florian Fortescue's...oh for god's sake, James, leave that alone! Ugh, I can't hear myself think with all these people..."

While his mother was talking, Albus carefully took back his supply list from her hands. He straightened the corners with great care, and then took off after his father and brother as they made their way to the bookstore.

"Why do I keep getting left behind!" Albus exclaimed as he ran up next to his father. Harry chuckled and ruffled Al's hair.

"Don't worry, we won't forget about you." He said, smiling inwardly at Al's neatly kept list. "This is your first time to Diagon Alley isn't it?" Albus nodded. "Well, no wonder it's so overwhelming. It was for me too."

Diagon Alley was the main source of magical supplies in all of Britain. It had every shop you could possibly think of, from Apothecaries to Menageries, and even sporting goods stores. People crowded the cobbled streets, knocking up against each others' shoulders, venders set up booths at street corners, and various house animals tended to get tangled in your feet if you weren't careful.

"I hate how crowded it is." James complained. "There isn't any space to do anything."

"You should see it when it's completely empty." Harry remarked. "It's much worse." Albus shuddered. That _did_ sound worse.

The three of them managed to make it to Flourish and Blotts without any lasting damage. The shop was about as chaotic as the streets. There were flying books, screaming books, books that changed size and color. Every type of book you could possibly think of. James, without a thought to his supplies, ran off to look for books of jinxes and death omens, leaving his family behind in the dust.

"And there goes your brother." sighed Harry. "Well, we can get his books for him. What's on your list, Al?"

Al didn't need to look at the list (as he could recite it by heart) but he looked at it anyway. "All the standard first year stuff. _Magical Theory, Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,_ things like that."

"Well I think they have the books organized for Hogwarts students..." Harry and Albus wandered off into the depths of the store to collect Al's supplies.

After a good deal of searching, distraction, and James managing to almost make Albus wet himself with an old copy of _the Monster Book of Monsters_, they collected everything they needed and headed off.

"Well, what's next on the list?" Harry asked as they left the store.

"I would look at my list," Albus began, his eyes red with anger. "If James hadn't gotten in EATEN."

"I told you, that was an accident!" James exclaimed. "That monster book was really intense, that's all!" Albus turned away and refused to look at his brother.

"All we have left to get is Al's cauldron and wand anyway." James shrugged. "We got all the rest with mom."

Harry looked at Albus for confirmation, and he nodded, grudgingly.

"Al, haven't you been saving your money up to get something?" Harry asked his son in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Where did you want to go? We can go anywhere in Diagon Alley."

A small ray of light seemed to shine in Al's eyes. "Well..." He started. "I was thinking...could we...maybe...go to Eeylops Owl Emporium?" Harry blinked in surprise.

"Really? You want an owl?"

"I have enough money." Al added quickly. "It doesn't have to be a really nice owl or anything, but I thought, instead of having to use the school owls, I could, maybe, get one as a pet. Y'know...if that's okay with you."

"As long as you are the one who takes care of it, it's fine by me." Harry said. "I'm surprised though, I would have thought you'd have wanted to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies." He laughed. "But if it's an owl you want, an owl you'll get I suppose."

James stared at his father in dismay. "What? Albus get's an OWL? How come I don't get an owl!"

"Because Albus is paying for it. Besides, I get the feeling you wouldn't be a very responsible pet owner." Harry explained. "We'll stop by the emporium after Ollivander's, all right, Al?"

Albus nodded, excitedly. As soon as the three reached Potages Cauldron Shop, James took his leave to go hang out at the Weasley Wizard Wheezes location with his uncle, who ran it. Albus, who was now carrying a very large, pewter cauldron, walked alongside his father as they made their way to Ollivander's.

Albus gazed in awe at the shop in front of him. There was an old, faded sign that read "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC." The shop itself was old and run down. It was hard to believe this was the home of the best wands in all of Britain.

Harry opened the door, and gestured for his son to go in. Albus did, and tried to look around, but his cauldron obstructed most of his view.

"Do we have a customer?" A voice from the back called out.

The wandmaker that had sold Harry Potter his wand, Garrick Ollivander, passed away a short time after the end of the Second Wizarding War. This left his only son, Gareth, in his place to take over the wandmaking business. The voice that called out from the back of the shop was none other than Gareth Ollivander himself. Gareth, though not as talented as his father, showed great potential in the field of wandlore, and was well sought after for the wands he made using his father's technique.

"Hello." Harry called out. "We're here to get a wand."

"Well of course you're here to get a wand, why else would you be here?" Gareth laughed, as he made his way to the front counter. He was a young man, in his late twenties or early thirties, and sported curly, black hair. He looked nothing like the descriptions of his father, Albus noticed. "You need a replacement Mr. Potter? Or have another first year for me?"

"The latter. This is my son, Albus." Harry explained. Albus set his cauldron down on the floor and nervously shook the wandmaker's hand, muttering his pleasantries.

"Pleasure to meet you. First year at Hogwarts? Mind if I take some measurements?" Without giving the nervous Albus a chance to answer, Gareth pulled out his measuring tape, and as the tape took the measurements on its own, he furiously jotted down notes on a Muggle notebook.

"Which is your wand arm?" Gareth asked. Albus raised his left hand, and Gareth nodded, jotting down more notes.

"Why do you..." Albus tried to ask, looking at the lined notebook. Gareth smiled knowingly.

"Most people who come in here ask that question." He said, closing the book and setting it down on the desk. "While Muggles don't have the same powers we do, they do have some things right. I prefer pencils and paper to parchment and quills. They are more organized, in my opinion. It does make some of the more old-fashioned purebloods mad, though." He took the measuring tape away, and disappeared into the back shop. A few minutes later, he emerged with three small boxes. He set them down on his desk, and picked his notebook back up.

"Now, Albus, was it?" Gareth asked. "I'm going to give you a scenario. You are traveling down a deserted road, alone. You reach a crossroad in your path. There are three directions you could take. Do you follow the path left to the beach, the middle path through the forest, or the right path to an old castle?" He looked at Albus expectantly.

Albus froze. There was a question? He wasn't prepared for a question. What should his answer be? This answer, this moment, could determine the wand he had for the rest of his life. What if he chose wrong? What if he ended up with a terrible wand that made him horrible at spells? What if he failed school? What if–

"You all right, Al?" Harry broke into Albus' thoughts, waking him up from his nervous trance.

"Yeah...I...uh...what were the choices again?" Albus stuttered. Gareth smiled, and repeated the options. Albus stood there for a full ten seconds. Harry was utterly confused, but Gareth had a look of triumph on his face, as if Albus had already answered.

"The castle." Albus finally whispered. Gareth nodded, picked up one of the three boxes he brought in with him, and took it back to the shop. When he emerged, Albus was getting more nervous by the second. Gareth opened one of the boxes, and handed Albus a wand.

"Willow and unicorn hair. Ten and a third inches. Reasonably firm." He explained. "Swish it around a bit." Albus did so, but nothing happened. Gareth took the wand back, and placed it in the box.

"All right, this one then." He said, handing Albus the wand from the other box. "Eleven and a half inches, willow and phoenix feather." This one did not receive much result either.

Gareth spent the next quarter hour bringing wands back and forth through the shop and giving them to Albus to try. Most of them were either willow or hawthorn, sizes and cores of all types. Eventually, Gareth found one that he looked satisfied with, and brought it back to try.

"This one might do it. Here, hawthorn, nine and a quarter inches, unicorn hair." Albus took the wand, and immediately sparks began to shoot out of the tip, and a warmth spread all through Al's body. Gareth gave a relieved smile, and jotted down more notes in his notebook.

"You're very lucky, young Mr. Potter." Gareth said. Albus looked at the wandmaker in confusion. Gareth explained, "That wand was made by my father, bless his soul. There aren't very many of his wands left."

"How are they different from yours?" Albus asked.

"They were made by more practiced hands, is all." Gareth said. "That will be fourteen galleons please, thank you for your business."

Harry paid Gareth, and then they went on their way.

* * *

"Here we are. Eeylops Owl Emporium!" Harry announced. Albus had stars in his eyes as he looked around at all the owls. There were tawny owls, barn owls, brown owls, screech owls, all of them handsome and perfectly groomed. The shop itself was dark in appearance, and the floor was littered with droppings, food, and various pieces of garbage. Each way you turn there were hoots and calls, ruffling of feathers, and the squeaking of frightened mice. Albus was too excited to care about the mess.

"What type of owl would you like?" Harry asked. Albus didn't respond, instead he started inspecting the owls one by one, petting all the animals that were allowed to be petted.

After a great deal of browsing, Albus finally found an owl that suited him. It was a tawny owl, but by some strange defect, sported all black feathers instead of the usual brown ones. When they emerged from the store with Albus's new owl in tow, and twelve galleons the poorer, he looked immensely pleased with his selection.

"What are you going to name him?" Harry asked as Albus admired his new companion.

"I'm not sure." Albus admitted.

"Harry!" Ginny called out, running towards her husband from across the alley. "Where have you been?" Her arms were full of bags, and James and Lily were behind her.

"Albus is hard to shop for." Harry joked.

"All right then." She laughed. "Come on then, it's time we headed home. We need to get packed for tomorrow."

"What?" James cut in. "The train leaves tomorrow?"

"Of course it leaves tomorrow, where have you been?" Albus scolded, glaring at his brother. "I would show you the date on my LIST, but–"

"That's enough you two." Ginny broke their argument. "Let's get going."

* * *

The Potters made their home at a small little house in a complex on Grimmauld place. The house itself was not seen to the Muggles that lived around it. They had simply accepted the amusing mistake that placed apartment eleven next to apartment thirteen.

The Potters lived at number twelve.

Number twelve Grimmauld place belonged to the noble and ancient Black family, a nearly all Slytherin family that was very proud of its lineage. When the last heir to the Black family passed all his belongings to Harry upon his death, Harry took it upon himself to renovate the dingy old house after the war, and make it suitable for living in. The halls that were once dark and dank were now just as normal as any other house you might see (with one exception: Harry had removed one of the walls which he said held a "nasty painting that wouldn't come off," leaving one very spacious room in the middle of the home.)

That night was a hectic one at number twelve.

First, James stole Albus's owl and tried to turn it into a toad, which earned him both a screaming mother and a letter from the Ministry of Magic. Second, Lily, who was nine years old and still struggling to control her magic, ended up floating around the ceiling, and everyone spent an hour trying to get her down (while she screamed the whole time.) And third, Albus accidentally set off James's store of dungbombs, and the rest of the night they all had to walk around with bubble-head charms cast upon themselves in order to rescue their nasal cavities from untimely destruction.

By the time they were all packed and asleep, it was well past midnight, and they were all exhausted. Still, Albus couldn't bring himself to go to sleep. When he finally did settle down, his trunk had been packed and repacked nearly a dozen times, his clothes precisely organized by article and color, his owl's cage was perfectly shined and polished, and his books were all stacked in alphebatical order according to title (which he had also organized by last name, and then changed back to title again.)

He didn't sleep well that night.


	2. The Sorting

Rise of the Alchemists: Chapter 2 – The Sorting

Writing belongs to NovaMagma at deviantart and Pinktwirls at

Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Not me. I'm not cool enough.

* * *

[**author's note**: the 19 years later epilogue occurs between chapter 1 and chapter 2.]

The train, being an object and having a distinct lack of coherent thought, did not help at all in the easing of Albus's nerves. The rattling cars against tracks thudding in his ears and the ringing voices of the dozens of passengers were pounding in Al's head so hard he thought he would pop. The turbulence wrestled with Al's stomach, and he was about to make the worst first impression on his fellow students he possibly could by being sick in the middle of the isle when his cousin, Rose, showed up as his savior.

"Al?" She called out, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. Albus nearly skyrocketed out of his shoes in surprise, but quickly relaxed when he realized who she was.

Rose was the same age as Albus, though the two were practically nothing alike. They both had freckles from their Weasley side, but Rose's hair was bright red, and Al's was jet black, and their personalities were drastically different. Rose was compulsive, overconfident, and somewhat tactless, though she made up for this with textbook smarts. Albus was shy and withdrawn, and had greater expectations for himself than he thought he could achieve. He was also very detail and organization oriented, a trait which Rose could use a little more of. Rose's hazel eyes seemed to stand out in the strange lighting of the rocking train, and the ambient noise nearly drowned out Al's next statement.

"Blimey, you scared me, Rose," He complained. "What do you need?" Rose crossed her arms and glared at her cousin.

"Well I can understand if you don't want me around, but _I_ have the empty compartment, and if you don't want to share it you don't have to." She turned away from Al, feigning offense.

After a great deal of stuttering and apologies from Albus, Rose laughed and led the way to her compartment. The two of them navigated around the chaotic wreck of students filling the car up with fireworks and dungbombs, and as soon as they reached their compartment, they slammed the door shut and waited for the outside noise to lessen.

"Jeez," Rose complained as they situated themselves into the cushioned seats. "I can't believe how crowded it is in the isles. You'd think there'd be a supervisor or something...Al, are you all right?"

As soon as they had left the chaotic hallway of the train, Albus had reverted to his wrecked state of anxiety. He didn't hear Rose calling his name until she had repeated it about four times.

"Wha? Sorry...I..." He trailed off. Rose, having known her cousin for long enough, knew that he wasn't very in control of his emotions.

"Spill it." Rose pushed. "What's eating you?" That was all it took for Albus to crack. Before she knew it, Albus started pouring out everything to her, and didn't give her much reaction time.

"What if no one likes me? What if I fail all my classes? What if people compare me to my dad? What if someone throws me off the Astronomy tower?"

"Al, that's hardly a plausibility."

When Albus didn't answer, and Rose decided she didn't care enough anymore to delve deeper. Their conversation was about to fall into silence had it not been for Albus's desperation to get his mind off the upcoming year.

"What sort of wand do you have?" He asked.

Rose smiled knowingly, and said, "Ash and dragon heartstring. You?"

"Hawthorn and unicorn hair." He responded. "I wonder what the materials mean. Don't they have some weird significance?"

"Yeah..." Rose started, struggling to remember. "The wood and cores reflect our personalities I think. And stuff like if our wand isn't bendy, you're a stubborn person. Things like that."

"Hm." Albus pondered. "I wonder what hawthorn and unicorn hair is supposed to be."

Their conversation maintained like that for a while, talking about the weather and other things no one cared about. The food trolley came and went, and though Albus didn't have anything else to eat, he didn't think that his stomach would be able to handle the candy the trolley had to offer.

Suddenly, the door to the compartment burst open, and Al's older brother, James, came charging in.

"Hey, what's up?" James asked the two of them, and without waiting for an answer, plopped down in the empty space beside Rose. James and Albus looked much alike, as they had both inherited their father's–and grandfather's–features; they each had jet-black hair and glasses, (though James's hair was untidy and Al's was very neat), but Albus was a bit more lanky than James, and James had his mother's brown eyes instead of his father's green ones. "Excited to be going to Hogwarts?" James asked his brother slyly.

"James, please just go away." Al pleaded. "Nothing you have to say right now will help anything."

"But what about how worried you were earlier?" James feigned concern over his little brother, his brown eyes alight with mischief. "About being placed in..." He added the last word in a whisper. "_Slytherin?"_

Albus glared at James, willing him to shut up. His worst fear, ever since he had been a small boy, was to be placed in Slytherin, the worst of the four Hogwarts houses. Every house had certain attributes it valued in its members, and your house placement was defined by your personality type. Gryffindor, home to all of Albus and Rose's families, valued bravery and chivalry (the standard hero qualities.) Ravenclaw took in students of academic potential, those who strived to learn. Hufflepuff valued acceptance, justice, and loyalty.

Slytherin had a reputation for being the most evil of the houses.

The Slytherin house values were not evil in themselves; ambition, cunning, leadership, and pride were the attributes that Slytherin cherished. But there was never a bad wizard that didn't come out of Slytherin, because the qualities Slytherin possessed could be easily abused. Slytherin and Gryffindor rivaled each other, and since every member of Al's family came out of Gryffindor, being in Slytherin was something he feared a great deal. It was, after all, the house that had birthed the most evil wizard of all, Lord Voldemort.

"Oh, so what if he's put in Slytherin?" Rose brushed James off in her matter-of-fact voice, reaching for another one of her textbooks to read through (a habit most likely adopted from her bookworm mother.) "Slytherin isn't all that bad. A lot of great wizards came from Slytherin. Regulas Black, Severus Snape, Hilbert Hrothingdale..."

"But you can't deny that Slytherin is evil." James cut her off. "Just look at Voldy. And have you even heard Dad's stories about Draco Malfoy?"

"But he turned out all right in the end..." Rose continued to protest, but James continued to ignore her, his attention focused on frightening Albus.

"I hear Draco's son is here as a first year this year. Scorpius Malfoy. I'd watch out for him if I were you." James winked, then left the compartment, leaving Albus sick to his stomach.

There was a long, empty silence, which took Albus a few minutes to break.

"You don't think I'll be sorted to Slytherin do you?!"

Rose sighed, and looked up from her book. "I thought you already went over this with Uncle Harry."

"But still..."

"Hey," She said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. "What are you gonna name your owl?"

The cousins looked over at Al's sleek, black owl, whose cage was resting on the ground next to them. He was a very smart looking creature, and his feathers were very nicely groomed.

"I'm not sure." Albus said. "Dad named his first owl after someone in his history textbook. Maybe I could find a name like that."

"What about someone from a chocolate frog card?" Rose suggested. "It could even be someone ridiculous like that witch that got abducted by pixies."

"Yeah." Albus rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna name my owl after a pixie abducted witch."

"Well, the chocolate frog thing wasn't a bad idea." Rose pouted. "You brought your collection with you, right? Shuffle them, and whatever you pick will be his name."

Albus grudgingly agreed, it wasn't a bad idea. He reached into his trunk and withdrew all the chocolate frogs cards he owned (he had every single one except Wendolin the Weird.) He shuffled them up, closed his eyes, and withdrew a card.

"Oh great." He said.

"What?"

"I got Paracelsus."

"So?"

"His full name was Auroleus Phillipus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim. Which one am I supposed to pick?"

"Oh just pick Hohenheim and be done with it."

Albus sighed, and nodded. He took a piece of spell-o-tape from his trunk and taped the card to the top of Hohenheim's cage.

"I'm putting down the full name in the pet registration when they ask for it." Al complained, though he was inwardly very amused at the entire situation. Hohenheim hooted happily.

It was well past nightfall before they reached Hogsmead station, but reach Hogsmead they finally did. All dressed up in their fancy clothes, the students tumbled out of the train like an overflowing goblet. The older students went to the carriages that pulled them towards the school, but the first years always received the more dramatic approach of a boat ride towards the castle.

"Firs' years, firs' years, come wi' me! Yeah, tha's right, all o' ya." Boomed out a familiar voice for Al and Rose.

"Hagrid!" they called out to their half giant friend. Hagrid was a tall, bulky man, with an enormous mess of gray hair and beard covering most of his face. He waved to the two cousins, as he beckoned for the group of first years to follow him to the docks.

"How've you been, Hagrid?" Rose asked as she jogged along side him to keep up with his pace.

"Good as always." Hagrid responded gleefully. "We got a new litter o' cerberus pups, an' they sure'r a handful." The half giant chortled, and Al exchanged a meaningful glance with Rose. Hagrid had a reputation for raising dangerous creatures for his Magical Creatures class to take care of. "I was thinkin' o' teachin' my seventh years how ter train 'em. The minis'ry says if they're raised right, they should be able ter stay at the school."

"Well, that's fantastic!" Rose said kindly, but her smile looked more like a grimace. Luckily, Hagrid didn't seem to notice.

"Three ter a boat, all o' ya!" Hagrid boomed as the students reached the docs. The first years acted much like very confused sheep; none of them seemed capable of sentience, and they were not able to properly situate themselves in the boats. Amidst the crowds of confused people Hagrid managed to make some progress in pairing them all up, but as he didn't bother to check who he picked up and placed where, he grabbed Rose right away from Albus and placed her in another boat.

"Rose! Rose, wait, gah, excuse me, Rose! Don't leave me here!" He called out in dismay. He wouldn't be left alone, he couldn't, he would just have to get Rose out of that boat...

Rose herself didn't much see the point of Al's worry, and since it would be a hassle to get out of the boat and try to get back with him, she just shrugged apologetically as her rowboat floated away. The next thing Albus knew was Hagrid grabbing him and plopping him down in a boat with a skinny, platinum-blond haired boy (though the color couldn't be seen in the dark) and a bulky red-haired fellow who looked as though he could be at least a fourth year by his size.

The red-haired fellow and the skinny boy spent so much time arguing over the oars and how to get moving that by the time they were afloat, the entire party was minutes ahead of them. Fortunately, the boat rides generally didn't last long. In fact, Hogwarts Castle was just around the corner of the lake.

The sight of it was certainly something to behold. It was the height of at least ten normal sized castles, and the glowing light from the windows gave it a mystical look that could never be described with the words I write to you today.

"Would you look at that." The red haired fellow admired, nearly dropped his oar in the water just from the sight of it.

"I would if I could." The skinny boy complained. "I can't see around your head."

The red haired fellow turned around to face the boy, anger clear in his movements.

"What did say about my head?" The fellow asked.

"I didn't say anything about your head," The boy replied incredulously. "I just said I couldn't get a good view–"

"All righty then, maybe this will help your vision!" The fellow yelled, and nailed the boy with a rather hard right hook to the face. The boy fell right off the boat into the water.

"Whoa!" Al yelled, as the rowboat rocked back and forth. "Hey, you all right?" He called out to the overboard passenger.

The boy surfaced again, moaning in pain, clutching his cheek. Al tried to reach for him, but he leaned too far for the rocking boat to handle, and both Albus and the red haired fellow went toppling into the water, flipping their boat over in the process.

"Well that's perfect!" The fellow complained over the water flooding into his mouth. "Now what do we do? Everyone else is already ahead of us! They can't come back to help."

"Isn't it obvious?" The platinum haired bow drawled. "We swim. What else? I doubt we'll be able to flip the boat back over."

"I'm gonna leave my robe behind." Albus yelled out, as he struggled to tread water over the weight of his clothing. "You two should do the same if you want to get out of this lake before we freeze to death."

The three waterlogged first years tossed their robes on the overturned boat and proceeded to swim towards the shore of the school. The red haired fellow made it out first since he had the strongest arms and legs, and without even sparing the other two a glance he continued on to the school entrance.

Al made it next, and leaned over to help the skinny boy out of the water. The boy muttered his thanks as he attempted to empty the water out of his shoes.

"Think we'll ever get our robes back?" The boy asked.

"Yeah, one of the teachers should be able to use a summoning charm." Albus explained, looking out down at the white polo shirt he had just ruined with lake water. "C'mon, I don't want to miss the House Sorting." The boy nodded, and they trudged along the grounds towards the entrance of the school.

"What house are you hoping to get in?" The boy asked as they battled against their dripping clothing to walk towards the castle.

"Wherever the hat places me I suppose." Albus sighed, not wanting to go into the topic any further. "You?"

The boy seemed to have a similar mindset. "As long as they let me in the school, I couldn't care less." Albus laughed, and the boy gave a nervous chuckle. The two continued with small talk until they reached the entrance hall with the rest of the first years.

"You two!" A curt voice called out as they gathered with the other first years. The voice belonged to the headmaster of the school, Professor Ernest Macmillan, the former prefect of Hufflepuff during Harry Potter's time. He was a tall man of stout build, and had the airs of someone who had just transferred out of a desk job.

Macmillan pushed his way through the students to meet the boys as they came in. "I wondered why Duffel was the only one who came in sopping. What sort of trouble have you two been getting in to?" Albus and the boy shared a glance, before Professor Macmillan kept speaking. "Oh, never mind, here." With a jab of his wand, their clothes were dried and their robes returned to their bodies. "Get in line, and stay out of trouble please."

They were only happy to oblige as the door to the Great Hall opened to let the first years in. Albus couldn't help but gape at the ceiling, which had been bewitched to look like the weather outside. The stars and moon lit up the hall as much as the floating candles did.

The hall was separated into four tables, one for each house. Each student bore the colors of their respective houses, Slytherin and Hufflepuff on the far ends, and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor in the middle.

Albus barely had a moment to wonder if the floating candles dripped wax on the students heads before the Sorting Ceremony started. On a stool in the front of the table of professors sat a very tattered and worn pointed hat. Albus knew enough about Hogwarts to know that this hat was known as the Sorting Hat, and contained fragments of the minds of each of Hogwart's founders. When a student placed the hat on their head, it would read the student's mind and place them in their houses in accordance to their personality.

The Sorting Hat itself spoke through a small tear in its fabric, and before they knew it, the hat burst into what was clearly a well practiced poem.

"Here students come, once a year,

To hear a judgement they all do fear.

All these students that do come this way

will forever reminisce this day,

To hear what the Sorting Hat will say,

before he will fall into decay.

So where will you be, My good dear chaps?

Well, why not try the Sorting Hat?

Gryffindor, brave and loyal? Hufflepuff, who fears no toil? Ravenclaw, who is sharp at wit?

Or Slytherin, who let few permit?

Well well well, now we shall see,

Where the Sorting Hat does say you'll be!"

The students gave a good natured clap, though the first years were more perplexed than anything. Professor Macmillan brought up a very long roll of parchment, straightened with it in his fingers, and began to read names from it.

"Allen, Gunner!" An arrogant looking first year from the crowd stepped forward and placed the hat on his head. The sorting hat didn't move for a few seconds, then shouted out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

A shout of applause erupted from the hall as Allen went to join his fellow Hufflepuffs, looking pleased with himself. The headmaster called out many more names, and as the group of first years began to grow smaller and smaller, Albus's nerves built up higher and higher.

Some of the students being called wore the hat for only a short few seconds before their house being called. Others sat on the stool for minutes at a time, waiting for a decision (Duffel, the red haired fellow from the boat, had the sorting hat on his head for nearly four minutes before finally being announced as a Gryffindor.) What defined the decisions? The ones that were only there for a few seconds, was that really enough time to choose a house off those mere few seconds? How long would it take for Albus? What if his decision was made too fast, and he was stuck in an awful house forever?

"Hey," A voice from next to him whispered. Albus jumped. It was the skinny, blond boy who fell out of the boat. Albus had nearly forgotten about him. The boy continued. "I never did get your name. What was it?"

"Oh! Er..." Albus looked around to make sure he wasn't drawing attention to himself. "Albus. Albus Potter. You can call me Al."

The boy blinked in furious surprise. "You're kidding! Harry Potter's son?"

Albus nodded, reluctantly. That was the reaction he got from most people after learning who he was. It created an expectation Albus felt he needed to look up to, and he didn't like it much. "Anyway, what's your name?" Al asked, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

"Well...I'm..." The boy started, but didn't finish, because Professor Macmillan interrupted him before he could answer.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!" Albus looked up in curiosity. Malfoy was the name of his father's greatest school rival. However, his interest in the name tripled when he realized who the name actually belonged to.

The skinny boy Albus had almost made friends with walked up to the stool, giving Albus an apologetic look on his way up.

"No way." Albus whispered to himself. Did he just make friends with Scorpius_ Malfoy?_ The Scorpius Malfoy that was the son of Draco Malfoy, the infamous rival of Harry Potter?

The sorting hat stayed upon Scorpius's head for a full twenty seconds before finally shouting out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Albus's stomach sunk. If he was sorted into Slytherin, that must mean Scorpius was just another arrogant brat, like the rest of his house. But he had seemed perfectly nice before...

Macmillan continued to scroll through the list of names. He went through Nack, Nelson, Nottingham, Olbrick, O'Brian, and various other O and P names before finally landing on Potter.

"Potter, Albus!" He shouted to the room. Al gulped, ran up to the stool, and nearly knocked it over because he was shaking so much. Professor Macmillan placed the tattered hat upon his head, and it began to speak into his mind.

_"Potter? As in Harry Potter? Well now, where should we put you? Actually, you don't seem to have much of a personality at all, besides being a bit whiny."_

_"What does that mean!"_

_"Calm down, it just means you'll be a little more difficult. You don't seem to have any specific yearn for knowledge, so that rules Ravenclaw out. No particular sense of loyalty or justice, so I can't really recommend Hufflepuff. Your family line would dictate Gryffindor, you are a Weasley after all. But you don't seem quite suited for that role. Actually, from what I see you would be best suited in Slytherin."_

Albus's heart skipped a beat. Slytherin? THE Slytherin? The evil Slytherin that would turn him into a bloodsucking monster? His head began to spin and burn out.

_"But...but my dad said that you would take my choice into account!"_

_"You never said you had anything against Slytherin. Besides, the only trait I'm getting from you is a Slytherin trait."_

_"What trait is that!?"_

_"Family pride. You are very proud of your family. You want to live up to their expectations. In fact, that's all you really seem to care about. Living up to your family name."_

Albus paused and considered this. The hat did have a point; he was very proud of his family. His parents had fought against Lord Voldemort himself, all his grandparents also did the same. The hat seemed to be impatient, however, so it hustled the conversation along.

_"So, Slytherin it is then?"_

_"Wait, I'm not so sure–"_

_""Oh, lighten up. You'll be fine."_

"SLYTHERIN!"

Albus's heart stopped.

He couldn't move.

Think. Breathe. All he knew was that he had just been placed in _Slytherin._

Slytherin.

SLYTHERIN.

The great hall didn't move either. None of them had been particularly interested in Albus. James Potter was a third year at the school, so the novelty of having Harry Potter's son at Hogwarts has somewhat died off at that point. But something like this was unthinkable.

The son of Harry Potter placed in _Slytherin?_ Immediately, whispers started. Was Albus Potter evil? Why else would he be placed in Slytherin? Was he adopted? What was wrong with him? The teachers, though they didn't show it, wondered the same thing.

The applause was no different from anyone else's applause. Albus stood up and sat down at the Slytherin table like anyone else. He got thumps on the back like all the other first years did. Congratulations like all the other first years.

"Congrats, mate." A voice called out. Albus hardly noticed through his trance.

"Huh...wuh..."

"I said congratulations on making Slytherin. It's the best of the houses, you know." Albus looked up. It appeared to be the school prefect sitting next to him.

"Henry Nott." The prefect said, shaking Albus's hand. Albus blinked in surprise.

"Wasn't your father...a...um..."

"Death eater?" Nott said. He nodded apologetically. "Yeah. Theodore Nott. My Grandfather was too. So I guess we should be rivals, parent-wise." Albus must have looked freaked out, because Nott added, "I'm nothing like them though. My dad was arrested when I was a toddler, so he's never been much of an influence. Besides," He added. "Being who you are, where you are, you'll run into a lot of people like me while you're at school."

"Who and where...?" Albus asked, though he knew the answer.

"Harry Potter's son. In Slytherin house." Nott explained. "Most of us are perfectly nice people, don't worry. Besides, we take care of our own, we Slytherins. You'll be fine. If you ever run into trouble, don't be afraid to ask one of us." Nott gave Al a hearty thump on the back, and turned back to the sorting.

Albus fell back into his trance, not paying much attention to the sorting until Nott elbowed him in the ribs.

"Hey, what was that–"

"That's your cousin up next, isn't it?" Nott asked Albus. Al looked up. That was indeed Rose up at the stool. Macmillan placed the hat on her head, and the hall fell into silence, just like it did for all the other first years.

The wait wasn't long, considering, but it felt like longer to Albus. Eventually, the sorting hat opened its mouth and called out, "RAVENCLAW!" The hall burst into applause, and Rose went happily to join her new classmates.

"That's interesting." A sixth year Slytherin whispered out from across the table. "She's the first Weasley in a while not to be sorted into Gryffindor. Even the headmaster was a Gryffindor too."

"Must have come from her Granger side. The one that works at law enforcement. My dad's told me about her before." Said Scorpius, who happened to be sitting next to the sixth year. Albus jumped a bit when he noticed him. "Lotta people say she should have been sorted into Ravenclaw, but the hat put her in Gryffindor instead." Albus nodded. When he thought about it, Rose had just as much Weasley in her as Al and James, but since she possessed the surname, it must have come as a minor shock to most people.

It didn't take long for the sorting to come to an end. The final first year, Fritz Zuerst, was sorted into Ravenclaw, and with that, the feast started.

His father had warned him about this, but nothing could truly prepare him for the shock of having an entire plate of deliciously mouthwatering food appear right in front of him. In fact, he almost fell backwards off his bench. But the food was delicious.

By the end of dinner, he was already feeling more comfortable with the house he had been placed in, (though it was still a bit disconcerting.) The Bloody Baron–the ghost of the Slytherin house–had sat himself down in between Scorpius and the sixth year who spoke earlier (who had been identified as Patrick Turken) and Albus managed to have a civil conversation with him without passing out in the middle of it. He even brought himself to laugh nervously at a few of the Baron's jokes.

The other Slytherins at the table were very aware of Al's obvious terror, and though they all found this very amusing, none of them said anything. In fact, they were too intrigued by having the son of Harry Potter with them at all that they didn't have much capacity left for making fun of him. They were all simply curious as to who he'd turn out to be.

When the end of the feast came, the plates cleared themselves and the now food-stuffed students turned to the headmaster as he prepared to speak.

"I, on behalf of all my other teachers here at Hogwarts, would very much like to welcome you to the upcoming year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Now, before you all go to your dormitories, I would like to say a few things. I'll try to keep it brief though and leave the finer details to your prefects," He made an appreciative gesture to the few students in the crowd who bore that badge of honor, "as I'm sure the older students should know everything well enough by now not to hear it again!" (A voice from the crowd that sounded suspiciously like James Potter's shouted "hear hear!" from the Gryffindor table.)

Macmillan continued on in an extremely pompous manner, "First of all, the basic school rules. Don't go wandering into the Forbidden Forest, as it is off limits. So if you get run over by centaurs, don't come crying to me. Please remember no magic is allowed in corridors or in the library. School uniforms will be worn at all times on weekdays. I would also strongly advise you to stay away from all Weasley products should you wish to maintain a clean record." (this last rule was met with a collective groan from the students, and even the Headmaster did look a bit regretful.)

"One last thing. I do believe you all remember Mr Filch, our caretaker? Last year was Mr Filch's last year at Hogwarts, the poor bloke has finally gone into retirement!" (This news brought on tremendous applause from the Great Hall. Even the teachers looked relieved.) "If any of you wish to retain some ounce of the fellow's school spirit, we have retained a list of his banned items on the door to the teacher's lounge." ("I hear someone used a permanent sticking charm on that thing to keep it from coming off," Turken commented.)

"Well, I won't keep you any longer, I will leave the rest up to your prefects! Get a good night's rest, and your schedules will be handed out at breakfast tomorrow, so don't be late! Good night everyone!"

The Great Hall erupted into a flurry of noise and chatter as the prefects tried to find all their first years, and the rest of the students tried to do nothing more than race to their dormitories as fast as they could. Albus seemed to shrink down amidst the crowd, as he wasn't very tall to begin with, before finally catching Nott's eye and racing after him. Once the Great Hall had emptied a bit, the first year Slytherins gathered with Nott and followed him down towards the dungeons through the grand staircase.

"You doing all right?" Someone asked Albus from behind. Albus spun around to see who it was, and it was Scorpius, who looked almost as nervous as Al felt. Al nodded weakly, his legs a strange mix between lead and jelly.

"I'd rather walk with a semi familiar face than be totally alone." Scorpius admitted. Albus nodded again, gratefully.

"You know," Albus started. "I bet us two could compare some awesome stories about our parents. It would be cool to see the other perspectives."

Scorpius laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet."

And thus the unlikeliest of friendships was born.


	3. Classes

Rise of the Alchemists Ch 3: Classes

Writing belongs to NovaMagma at and pinktwirlz at

HP Belongs to JK not me.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Lots of this content is not mine. Nott's speech is almost directly from Pottermore, and though I probably don't have to mention this, but the name Silas Ramsay comes from Cyrus Ramsey from Star Trek (i regret nothing)

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The Slytherin common room was located underneath the lake, and as such the lighting had a constant blue tinge that made you shiver just by looking at it. But if you stay in the room for any extended period of time your eyes would get used to it, Albus found soon out.

Albus's dorm room he shared with the other first year boys, of which there were ten, and had been split into two rooms. After a great deal of arguing and debating with the other boys, everyone managed to move their things to a four poster that satisfied them. Other than Al and Scorpius, the other first years who shared their room were Farris Miller, a lanky black haired fellow, and a pair of short American twins named Carson and Taylor Nelson, whose parents moved them to England shortly after their birth.

The following morning, the first years made their way to the great hall in a single pack, each of them just nervous enough to not go alone, but none willing to admit it. The trek out of the dungeons was long and confusing, and it took them nearly an hour to find their way out after getting lost. By the time they made it to breakfast, the great hall was crowded with people all anxious to receive the schedules the teachers were handing out.

"Oi!" Nott called from the Slytherin table. "New lot! Over here!"

As the first years ran to the table, Nott gestured for them to all sit near him. Next to Nott was another prefect, this one a girl with dark skin and curly hair.

"You didn't see much of her yesterday, so I'd like you to meet Gwen Robins, the other Slytherin prefect." He pointed to the girl. She smiled and nodded, and the first years mumbled their greetings. "Another thing we didn't get to yesterday was a formal introduction of the house. Go ahead and eat breakfast while I talk, it won't take long.

"Slytherin, as I'm sure most of you agree, is the best of the houses. We have the most honor, nobility, and talent as far as I'm concerned. If the Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin, that means you have a seed of greatness planted in you, and none of you forget it. People in Slytherin do great things, even if they sometimes become corrupt along the way." Nott and Robins shared an uncomfortable glance.

"This is the first rule of the Slytherin house: We take care of our own. While Ravenclaws are scrambling over each other for better marks, we stay united, because most everyone is united against us. We have obligations to our serpentine brothers, don't forget that. You will be grateful to have the Serpents on your side as you roam the halls of the school.

"The other rule of the Slytherin house: Don't believe what others say about us. Most say that we are all interested in Dark Arts, and come from all pureblood lineage back to Merlin's time. It's all rubbish. Sure, we've produced our fair share of Dark Wizards, but so do the other houses, they just don't admit it.

"That's most everything you need to know about us. You know where your dormitories are, and all that, but if you need anything else don't hesitate to talk to me or Robins. Password changes every fortnight, so keep an eye on the notice board. Also, while you're here, try and make friends with the Bloody Baron. He's happy to point new Slytherins in the right direction, and if you ask nicely, he might agree to frighten people for you. Just don't ask about his bloodstains; he doesn't like it." Nott smiled encouragingly to the somewhat overwhelmed first years, before noticing someone behind him.

"Ah, Professor Grumman!" He greeted. The man was about average height, and had curly, silver hair, and seemed to have a twitch in his eye.

"Good morning, Nott. I see you have your first years?" He nodded at the cluster of students. "My name is Professor Grumman, the transfiguration teacher and head of Slytherin house. I would ask your names, but I daresay I'll find them out in due course." He spoke very impressively for such a frail looking man, Al noticed. "Meanwhile, here are your schedules." He handed each first year an identical schedule, written in dark green ink on a piece of thick parchment. Grumman didn't stay long however, as soon as the last schedule was handed out, he made a beeline back for the teacher's table.

"Grumman gets a bit awkward sometimes, don't mind him." Robins explained, looking over her own schedule.

"What do we have first?" Scorpius asked Albus as he ate a piece of sausage. Albus looked down at the parchment.

"Potions." Albus said. Scorpius nodded.

"You any good at potions?" He asked. Albus shook his head.

"I tried making a simple one once, but it wasn't really my thing."

"Me neither." Scorpius smiled. "So I guess we're in the same boat then." Albus nodded.

After finishing their hasty breakfast, Albus and Scorpius made their way back to the dungeons to find their first class. The potions room was a hallway across from the Slytherin common room, so Albus managed to find their way there without much incident. Unlike the rest of the dungeons, the potions room had a cheery atmosphere, and was brightly lit. There were various plants growing along the sides of the room that sported all different colors, although the atmosphere was a bit tainted by the assorted jars that sported various objects floating in gaseous liquids.

Scorpius and Albus weren't the first students to arrive, as a couple of prestigious Gryffindors also entered the class early. A few of them sent the two Slytherins glares, but for the most part they were ignored. They took two seats in the left side of the room, as the Gryffindor students had claimed the right.

Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the class eventually trickled in. Albus and Scorpius ended up sharing their table with the Nelson twins, and they were beginning a conversation when the Professor Sprout, the Potions teacher, entered the room.

Marien Sprout was the daughter of an old Herbology teacher, Pomona Sprout, and looked just like her. She was a stout lady, but had a youthful enthusiasm not found in many other teachers.

"Hello, all!" Professor Sprout called out gleefully. The class murmured in response. "Welcome to your first class of the year! My name is Professor Sprout, some of you half or pure bloods out there might have parents who knew my mother. Show of hands? Yes yes, I thought so. So...potions!"

The rest of the class was an interesting one. After going over basic rules and guidelines, the students got to watch as she poured a love potion on one of her strange plants, and the plant attached its suckers to the arm of A Gryffindor girl. She then walked them through the process of making a cough tonic, during which Albus managed to catch his hat on fire, and everyone had to cover their noses from the smell of burnt hair.

After Albus's hair was sufficiently regrown, the class went on relatively normally until the bell. As they left the classroom, the first year Gryffindors, (as no doubt instructed by their upperclassmen) shot glares at the Slytherin students, who returned them just as icily.

"You know," Albus whispered to Scorpius, pushing through a crowd of third years. "Nothing's ever going to change between our houses if we don't let it."

"Old rivalries go deep." Scorpius said simply. Albus still looked concerned, so Scorpius went on. "Hey, you're here aren't you? You come from a long line of Gryffindors. Maybe you're the sign that something's changing." Albus considered this, and added.

"I don't know if I like that sort of role." Al laughed. Scorpius also gave an amused snort.

Over the course of the week they experienced all the classes that were offered to the first years, assuming they could find their classes in the first place. The dungeons were a cakewalk compared to what the school had to offer: changing doors, impersonating doors, trick stair steps, moving staircases; it was enough to drive any eleven year old mad. Luckily, thanks to Al's very analytical brain, he was able to navigate through the halls easier than Scorpius could and they managed to arrive on time for most of their classes.

The class that fascinated Albus most was Transfiguration. It was taught by Cody Grumman, the head to Slytherin house. Though Grumman had appeared nervous in the Great Hall, while he was in the classroom he was in his element. He could get completely absorbed in lecturing about the theories of transfiguration, and sometimes even forget he had a class there. He even showed the class how he had trained his owl as an Animagus; with a flick of the finger his owl could turn himself into a cat, and back again. By the end of the hour, Albus managed to change the color of his quill from brown to red, and received his first ten points for Slytherin house.

The worst class of all by far was History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns, the only ghost teacher in the entire school. The classroom itself was hot and stuffy, and that combined with the drone of the ghost teacher's voice made the room nearly unbearable. It was a constant battle just to keep your eyes open. No one in the room lasted ten minutes before becoming near comatose.

Except Scorpius Malfoy.

Out of all the rest of them, Scorpius fought long and hard against the drone of Professor Binns. Scorpius held a particular fascination for magical history, in his pre-schooling he was particularly talented at it. Nothing pleased him more than learning about the bloodlines of Merlin, the birthplace of Nicholas Flamel, or the great Troll Revolution of 1349. This, Albus reflected, was probably what got Scorpius into Slytherin: his curiosity about histories and bloodlines, as he didn't seem to sport any other great ambition or cunning attitude.

Scorpius lasted a grand forty six minutes before giving way to the exhaustion. The other students that had chosen to observe his efforts instead of paying attention on their own gave a quiet round of applause when he fell. Binns didn't notice.

By the time lunch that day came around, they were famished. Albus was just starting to spoon leftover eggs on his plate, when Rose came over from the Ravenclaw table. It was the first time since the Sorting that Rose had spoken to Albus.

"Hey." She called out, unsure as to whether she should sit down or not.

"Huh? Oh, hi!" Albus replied. Scorpius only registered half of heir conversation, as he was still groggy from History of Magic. "Congratulations on getting into Ravenclaw." Albus said.

Rose seemed to decide she was more comfortable standing up, so Albus turned around on the bench and held up his plate as he ate. "Thanks," She said. "You too on...Slytherin. You...holding up okay?" Was this Rose's way of trying to be helpful? How fascinating.

Albus swallowed. "Yeah, I'm doing fine. James has been making fun of me though." He turned and noticed Scorpius was inches away from falling headfirst into his soup, so Al pushed him up by the forehead and turned him around. "Rose, this is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius, Rose Weasley."

"Pleasure." Rose said, giving Albus a nervous glance (her father was gonna flip) before extending her hand. Scorpius shook his head to wake himself up, and took it.

"You too." He smiled.

After a couple more minutes of small talk, Rose lightened up. She seemed to have convinced herself that an evil snake demon had not possessed her cousin, so she went to rejoin her friends in Ravenclaw.

"Oh Al, by the way," She added before leaving earshot. "James persuaded Peeves to try and follow you around. He's waiting in the second floor corridor for you, so try to stay away." Albus waved in thanks, and she was off.

"Who's Peeves?" Albus asked Scorpius once she had left.

"The poltergeist." Scorpius responded. "Bloody annoying, I've heard. Best to follow her advice if he's got a thing for you especially. We should get going soon though, Herbology will start in ten minutes."

As it turned out, the Ravenclaws shared their Herbology with the Slytherins. Professor Longbottom taught the class, and though he wasn't the best public speaker, he had a passion for plants that even rivaled Grumman's obsession with Transfiguration. As he was explaining the fundamentals, he winked at Albus and Rose (As Neville Longbottom was a friend of their parents.)

Rose, it seemed, had a knack for the subject. Their first task, repotting Flixweed plants, was an utter disaster for most students, but Rose managed to complete it on her first try. She beamed as Professor Longbottom awarded her fifteen points for Ravenclaw.

I only got ten for Transfiguring my quill. Albus inwardly grumbled.

Thursday classes started late in the day, due to the Astronomy classes held at midnight every Wednesday. The class was taught by Agatha Sinistra, a dark skinned lady who was very tall and very thin, and the daughter of the Professor Aurora Sinistra who taught their parents. She seemed to live a nocturnal life, as none of the students had seen her around the school since the Sorting ceremony. They spent the class looking at maps and identifying every constellation they could recognize. The muggle born children seemed to be better at finding the patterns in the night skies than those from wizarding families, who had most likely grown up with star charts instead of actually looking outside.

The last class the school had to offer, Defense Against the Dark Arts, was taught by Nigel Wolpert. Professor Wolpert had mousy brown hair, a round face, and was overly enthusiastic. Most students didn't take him seriously upon first glance until he flew Carson Nelson around the room by his ankles for sticking his gum under the desk.

On the Friday of their first week came the class everyone most anticipated: flying lessons.

All first years attend periodic broomstick lessons over the course of the year. A previous Quidditch player for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Alicia Nanther, previously Alicia Spinnet, taught the lessons once a week. The inclusion of regular quidditch lessons were only included after some of the muggle parents demanded that sports take a more active role in wizarding curriculum.

All the Slytherins stuck together in a pack, and ran up to meet the Gryffindors on the Quidditch Pitch for their lesson. In the middle of the field was Madame Nanther, and a bag full of school broomsticks.

"You would think," Scorpius whispered to Albus as they gathered around the teacher. "That they would stop putting Gryffindors and Slytherins in classes together."

"It's probably intentional to try and force us to get along." Albus whispered back. "But in that case, the better you know them, the better you know what to hate."

"Hello first years!" Madame Nanther cut into their conversation. The group of students looked up at the cheerful teacher. "You are here to discover the magic of the wizarding sport of Quidditch! I can see you're all itching to go, so go ahead and choose a broom from that pile over there, one at a time please, no need to rush, you'll all get one."

Albus, who already knew a little bit about flying, grabbed the best two brooms he could see in the pile amongst the scrambling kids, handing one to Scorpius and keeping one for himself. Looking at the instrument made him slightly sick; he had never liked flying as much as his father had. Scorpius had never flown before, though his father did teach him the rules of Quidditch when he was younger.

Madame Nanther, with the help of a silencing charm and strong leadership skills, managed to organize the first years in a line as she showed them the proper grip for a broomstick. Albus didn't pay close attention. He knew the exact way to hold broomsticks, the name of almost every quidditch move known to wizard kind, and the names of all the members of all the popular teams. However, he had never been good at the actual sport.

This wasn't for lack of trying. His father taught him and James both how to fly a broomstick, but Al, who didn't have a knack for the sport, never learned to enjoy it. He studied all the quidditch textbooks he could in the hopes he could learn, but as his aunt Hermione told him, books could only get him so far in that field. Albus tried practicing on his own, but it didn't end well. He lied to his father and told him he really did like flying, and that he was getting better, but he managed to put off showing Harry what he had "improved on" until he had left the house for Hogwarts.

Madame Nanther started calling all the students up one by one to show them how to hover off the ground, leaving the rest of them to socialize with those of their houses.

"Hey!" One of the Slytherins called out, before chucking a gobstone at one of the Gryffindor boys. The boy wasted no time in picking it back up and throwing it back at the Slytherins. Scorpius managed the catch the gobstone before it hit anyone else, except at that point so many other various objects were being tossed, and so many students jeering, it didn't make much of a difference.

The fighting finally stopped when Ferris Miller's shoe his Madame Nanther in the head, and he had to move to the back of the queue for his turn on a broom, earning him laughs from the other house.

Scorpius seemed to have a natural talent for flying, as he had lost control in the hovering exercise and ended up flying upward twenty feet. As Madame Nanther was having a heart attack from the worry, he flew a circle around the group of students and landed down where he started (earning him some nervous Gryffindors for his potential quidditch skills.) Laughing, Scorpius punched Albus on the shoulder when his turn came up, and he looked like he might faint.

"You're Albus Potter, aren't you?" Madame Nanther asked with a smile. "Your father and I were on the team together. He was a natural. It's a pleasure to meet you." Albus nodded politely, though her words made him anxious. No doubt she would expect him to be just as good.

Madame Nanther shot a confused glance at Al's Slytherin colored tie, but said nothing as she showed him how to mount. Telling him to kick off from the ground, Albus's broom decided it didn't feel up to flying, and he fell flat on his face. The Gryffindors were having a field day.

Once he did manage to get into the air, shaky though he was, his broom gave out again. This time, thankfully, he landed mostly on his feet.

After everyone had cycled through their turn on the broomsticks, the group was instructed to stand in a circle and practice hovering as a group. In the chaos it took for the first years to form a coherent shape, Albus ended up being smashed between a Slytherin named Amanda Polenta and a Gryffindor boy, Silas Ramsay.

Madame Nanther went around correcting stances and grips before telling everyone to kick off.

"Lean forward if you want to come down, until then, try and maintain a steady hover for as long as you can." The students exchanged nervous glances at each other. "If any of you start to lose control, come down immediately."

"Otherwise we'll end up like Professor Longbottom." Someone from across the circle whispered, and the group snickered. Madame Nanther pretended not to hear.

"On my mark, ready, kick!" She called out.

Most of the students actually managed to stay afloat, some shakier than others. Scorpius seemed to be the most comfortable, though his broom still jerked a bit. Albus seemed to be caught in a duel with his broom over staying steady.

The Gryffindors were somewhat resentful of Albus, as they felt they had been cheated out of the son of Harry Potter, Because of this, they immensely enjoyed watching Albus struggle. In fact, they liked it so much, that Silas decided to "lose control" of his broom, and bash up against Al's shoulder, also knocking over Amanda Polenta in the process. Amidst the domino tumble, Albus pulled up on his broom out of instinct. The broom became a bit overexcited, and dashed forward. Al's robe got on Amanda's hair in the process, pulling her, shrieking, five feet off the ground before he flipped over and landed painfully on his head, falling away into unconsciousness.

* * *

"It's been a day now, when will he wake up?" Rose asked. Scorpius shrugged.

"Who would have thought he'd be so bad at flying." He said, scrawling down his History of Magic homework as he waited by his friend's beside.

The hospital wing was a small, white room. It had a dozen beds lying along the walls and pale curtains surrounding the beds. Albus, having knocked himself out on his broomstick, was lying in the hospital wing with the school healer, Mister Watson, tending to his bruised head. Scorpius had come with Madame Nanther to deliver him to the hospital.

As rumors in Hogwarts do, news of Albus spread fast. He was, after all, the first in both sides of his family to be bad at quidditch. As such, Rose found herself also in the hospital wing to assess her cousin's condition. This let Scorpius and Rose joined together in mutual confusion and exasperation at their friend's lack of talent.

In reality, Rose almost found it fun to do exactly what her father didn't want her too, which was make friends with a Malfoy. Although, some of the excitement in being rebellious was taken away when Scorpius turned out to be incredibly boring.

Scorpius wasn't adventurous, troublesome, daring, snarky, or anything Rose expected of him. He was perfectly polite whenever she spoke to him, quite conscientious of his grades, and very concerned about his bedridden friend. If anyone needed a knight in shining armor, he would be the one to call. But for a mysterious bad boy to carry on his family reputation? Not a chance in hell. It was slightly disappointing, though they did get along rather well. Even if the most interesting thing he said within the two hours was him wondering aloud if it would be possible to get a better History of Magic teacher (an idea with which Rose wholeheartedly agreed.)

When Albus awoke, he found them playing a muggle card game of poker with Al's chocolate frog cards as chips. Luckily, none of his cards had been harmed, though he was a bit insulted that they didn't care as much about his welfare as they did for his use as a supplier of poker currency.

"Oh, look, you're awake!" Scorpius said as Albus looked around for his reading glasses, and Rose swept in Scorpius's entire bank chocolate frog cards. "How's your head?"

"Um, not too bad. What happened?" Albus asked, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up.

"Don't rub your eyes, it's bad for them." Rose warned. "The story went around the school within a couple of hours. You flipped over on your broom, and landed on your head. But you'll be happy to know that Silas Ramsay got week's detention for it." Al gave a weak smile.

"You two are hitting it off, aren't you?" He mentioned as Scorpius packed up the muggle playing cards.

"I wouldn't say that." Rose laughed. "He'll need to get better at cards before I can fully accept him." She picked up her bags, and before leaving, turned to say, "Now that you're awake, I should be heading back to my common room, I have homework to do." Without another word, she was gone.

"Lovely girl." Scorpius sarcastically remarked, though he was smiling as he said it. "I can't believe you two are related, you're nothing alike."

Albus tried standing up, but fell back down on the bed in the process. "Yeah, well, she inherited a lot of her dad. So...the school heard about what happened?"

Another voice that didn't belong to Scorpius cut in. "Naturally." Said Mr Watson as he limped in the room with a bottle of skele-grow in his hand. "Never doubt the Hogwarts rumor mill." Setting the skele-grow down, he walked over to Albus, waved his wand around Al's head, and smiled.

"You seem to be fine, all you needed was a little rest. You should best get back to your common room before it gets too late to finish your homework." He said.

Albus sighed. "That's right, there's still the essay on sphinx inauguration."

"I've finished, you can look at mine if you need help." Scorpius offered as they left the hospital wing. Albus nodded gratefully as they continued their trek towards the dungeons.

* * *

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_My first week at Hogwarts has been good so far. I don't know how much James has told you, but he's probably drastically morphed his description._

_I named my owl Hohenheim, after my Paracelcus chocolate frog card. The one Uncle Ron gave me, remember?_

_I was sorted into Slytherin. _

_I know, don't say anything. I was only put in the house because the sorting hat called me "boring" and said I had very few attributes to work with._

_As it turns out, the house isn't all that bad. I've even made a couple of friends, they seem to be really nice. The Gryffindors are the awful ones (no offense.) A Gryffindor knocked me off a broomstick during flying lessons, and landed me in the hospital wing earlier today. I'm sorry if my letter seems detached; it's really late and I'm having trouble thinking correctly. I keep thinking I need to tell you about the sphinx inaugurations we had to write about for History of Magic._

_Your son,_

**_Albus_**


	4. Advocation

So sorry for the wait this chapter! I got out of the mood and school got crazy, so I only had half a chapter written. This weekend I cracked down on it and finally got to finishing. It's not the best it could be, but this is pretty much a filler chap, explaining the lexicon and all that.

Rise of the Alchemists belongs to pinktwirlz at and NovaMagma at deviantart. Do not steal or I will eat your livers.

Harry Potter names and characters belong to JK Rowling. If I was JK Rowling, would I really be writing fanfiction?

* * *

The thrill of Hogwarts was still as alive as ever, but no one was disappointed when the weekend came around. The first years took the time to relax in the common room, or enjoy the leftover sun from the summer break. This wasn't without irritation from the fifth, sixth, and seventh years however; all of their teachers were not shy about their workload. Most of them would be catching up over the weekend on their homework

Albus, still weak from his time in the hospital wing, spent most of his Saturday in the common room playing gobstones with Scorpius. The Slytherin common room was built underneath the Black Lake, giving the walls a green tinge. This was supported by the emerald colored lights and furniture. The room seemed to be modeled after an underwater shipwreck. It had leather sofas with fancy buttons, skulls lining the walls, and cupboards made of dark wood. It was a grand and cold looking place, though the fire kept the room uncharacteristically warm. The walls were also decorated with tapestries of the adventures of Merlin and other famous Slytherins. There were moving portraits of said adventurers who loved to engage in a sporting word game if given the chance, or even help students with their homework. Albus was starting to like the place (after all, how many other houses could get advice from Merlin on their history of magic homework?)

When gobstones started to get boring, Scorpius would drag Albus around the school to go "exploring." The halls of Hogwarts were full of mystery, history, and grandeur. It seemed to draw Scorpius in as a beacon. Had Albus not been a natural navigator, they could have lost themselves for hours in the grand castle.

After a good two hours of roaming the school, talking to moving portraits, and discovering hidden pathways, even Albus started to admit defeat. There was only so much he could take in at one time, and his "mind map" was starting to unravel.

Scorpius was having similar problems. As much as he tried, he couldn't remember every name of the portraits, or the unique spells cast on each particular suit of armor, or the deathdays of all the ghosts. It drove him to near insanity.

After a good deal of thought, Albus finally came up with a solution. As Scorpius admired the goblets and faded plaques in the Trophy Room, Albus suggested something that would shape their Hogwarts experience forever.

"Let's make an encyclopedia."

Scorpius just turned, and stared.

"Think about it," Albus said. "Every ghost we meet, every portrait we talk to, we write down. We organize them by section and location. And every bewitched object we talk to, we write down. Every passageway we find, we make a map. We might not learn all of Hogwarts' secrets, but we'd come close."

Scorpius stared for a few more seconds, before breaking out into a hopeful smile.

"Albus, I could kiss you." He beamed.

Thus began the Hogwarts Encyclopedia, or _die Roxfort Lexikon_ as they called it (using a mixture of German and Hungarian to make it sound more impressive.)

The Roxfort Lexikon, as of the next Sunday afternoon, was not so much an encyclopedia as a collection of parchments with notes scrawled in varying colors of ink. The duo started small, with their common room. They jotted down notes on the furniture, the walls, even the giant squid that swam past the window sometimes. For the sake of you, the reader, I shall provide the final finished page for you here.

* * *

_Die Roxfort Lexikon - Page I_

The Slytherin Dungeon (aka the Slytherin Common Room)

The Slytherin common room, as of date of publication, is a dark, green room that exists underneath the lake. The furniture and decor features emerald colors and the serpentine emblem of the Slytherin House. The walls are decorated with tapestries showing the adventures of famous Slytherins of history.

Noteworthy facts:

- The password changes every fortnight.

-No one of other houses has been known to (publicly) enter for over seven centuries.

-Contrary to popular belief, the Slytherin dungeon does NOT house the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

List of Portraits and otherwise bewitched objects:

-Portrait of Merlin: He sports a long beard, and a starry purple hat. He will help you with homework should you ask nicely enough. Be careful not to insult him, for he never forgets a grudge.

-Portrait of Henrietta Wemmings: She wears a long, blue cloak and has a very pointed nose. She will sing all nineteen verses of Born with the Snidgets if you can answer her riddles, which are notoriously difficult. She has a new riddle every day.

-Portrait of Arsenius Jigger: Thin with short, black hair, the author of many potions and DADA texts enjoys nothing more than reading the daily prophet (if anyone is willing to hold it up to his face) and helping students finish the crossword.

-Portrait of Regulus Moonshine: Not often seen, as he disappears into other portraits more often than staying in his own. When he is seen, he is often fraternizing with other portrait women. He has long, blond hair and a golden jacket.

-The Infamous Screaming Book of Yorkshire: It sits on one of the desks, as it has been for many years. No one knows what's inside, because if anyone attempts to move or open it, it lets out a deafening shriek until closed and put back in its spot.

-The Unidentified Toad: Possibly a ghost, the toad noise has been around for as long as anyone can remember. Every 13 minutes and 40 seconds, it croaks once. No source has been yet found.

* * *

As simple as it seems, it took two full hours to finish the notes and organize the page. But it left the duo feeling very proud of their days work.

Monday the next day started with classes as usual. There were still whispers chasing Albus through the halls as word spread about the incident on his broomstick, but for the most part Albus was able to ignore them.

Time during classes was split between documenting the classrooms' many quirks for the Lexicon, and actually taking notes. There was an established rule created that day, a rule which was the first of many. Albus started a list, writing the first rule down.

_Rules of die Roxfort Lexicon:_

_1. No living person, unless the said person is of historical significance to the school, shall be documented in the lexicon for purposes of time management. (Historical significance being past headmasters and headmistresses, individuals given a commemoration in the trophy room, individuals who break school records, individuals who have taken part in active roles towards the protection of the school's destruction.) This rule may be bypassed at the authors discretion._

It was a rather lengthy entry, but an effective one nonetheless. The rule was essentially created so they could justify not writing down every student in the school as a new entry. They did have to be careful however; giving themselves bypass ability meant they might go overboard with who they did want to include. Thus, another sentence was added to the rule.

_In order for a bypass to occur, the vote must be unanimous._

One thing Scorpius and Al could agree on; Hagrid deserved to be in it.

Seeing as Albus had missed his tea date with Hagrid while he was holed up in the hospital wing, Hagrid had presented the opportunity to come after dinner on Monday for some tea and cakes. Albus had accepted, mentioning he would bring a friend along, (though not mentioning Scorpius specifically. He didn't want to scare the half giant with the Malfoy name.)

The two made their way down to Hagrid's hut that evening. Scorpius and Albus had stuffed their pockets with parchment and quills, hoping to find a way to tactfully take notes on the gamekeeper and his hut.

Albus rapped on the door, his heart pounding slightly. He had grown up with Hagrid visiting his home on the holidays, as his father and Hagrid were very good friends. This being said, Albus didn't know much about the man personally. And as such, he didn't know how Hagrid would react to his house placement or his choice in company. Hagrid had said nothing of the matter previously to the young Potter boy.

Scorpius cast Al a concerned look just as Hagrid opened the door. It was hard to tell his mood through the great gray beard, but his eyes were warm and welcoming.

"S'bout time yeh came ter see me. Broomstick accidents an' all tha' though, guess couldn't be helped. Come on in, I'll make yeh and yer friend some tea."

Albus smiled gratefully, and the two made their way into Hagrid's cozy little home.

It was a small, circular hut that was cluttered to the brim with various pieces of junk and knick-nacks. There was a bright fireplace that warmed and lit the area, along with a few torch lamps and a whistling kettle.

Scorpius marveled at the sight. He had grown up in the very prestigious and noble Malfoy Manor. There was never a speck of dust anywhere to be seen in his home, and the halls had a permanent odor of cleaning solution. This cabin had all sorts of raw and musky aromas to entice him, and the certain organized discord was something to marvel at.

"It's nice to see you, Hagrid." Al started. "It's been a while."

Hagrid chuckled as he poured the three of them tea. "Well I saw yeh at the sortin', di'nt I? Though there wasn' much time fer conversation there I guess." His gaze shifted towards the marveling blond. "I don' think we've been introduced. Names' Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid." He offered his overlarge hand for Scorpius to shake.

"Scorpius Malfoy. Friend of Al's." He struggled to hold on to his hand as Hagrid vigorously shook it.

"Shoulda known, yeh look just like a Malfoy. Like Weasleys you lot are." His voice remained jovial, though it seemed slightly forced, and he didn't meet Scorpius's eyes.

"Scorpius is a friend of mine. I'm sure we'll all get along." He passed on the silent question to Hagrid, '_Is it okay I've brought a Malfoy along?'_

Hagrid waved his hand as he presented them with tea. He silently responded. _'I don't mind.'_

"So, Slytherin huh." Hagrid mentioned as he sank back into his own chair, steaming cup of tea in his hand. Albus stiffened all over again, imagining the worst. "Who'dve thought."

Scorpius came to the rescue, saving Albus the need to answer. "I thought the same thing about the house, truthfully. All the pure blood nonsense and all that." He sipped his tea. "But it's not as bad as everyone makes it out to be." He glanced at Al, prompting him to continue. Al nodded slightly.

"It's really a fascinating house. The people are really nice, and the history of it all is mind blowing. Still," He added. "It's a very proud place. Sometimes intimidating."

Hagrid seemed lost in thought. "I guess it depends on yer perspective. I've never had good experiences with Slytherins before, so I can't tell yeh I'm not biased." He chuckles. "Times are changin' I guess."

"What house were you in, Hagrid?" Scorpius asked curiously.

"Oh?" Hagrid looked flattered that someone was interested in himself. "I was a Gryffindor meself. And proud of it."

"I should have known. I've heard many stories of you. You seem very brave." Scorpius continued. He seemed to enjoy flattering the gamekeeper, and Hagrid certainly couldn't say he disliked it either.

_At least he's making sure to be on Hagrid's good side. _Albus thought to himself.

It took a while for Hagrid to adjust to a Malfoy drinking tea in his hut, but it didn't take long for him to warm up to the boy. Albus in turn also relaxed. Even if he didn't know Hagrid very well, if he had earned Hagrid's acceptance his parents would be less likely to protest against anything Al was doing.

They left Hagrid's house with good spirits, having a feeling of accomplishing something during their time there. Albus had gained the acceptance of his family friend. For Scorpius, it was the first door opened to the wizarding world. A door that lead beyond his provincial life at Malfoy Manor.

It was exciting.

* * *

"This is boring!" Scorpius declared.

The blond eleven year old let his forehead fall on to the textbook in front of him, the veins in his eyes almost pulsing with red.

"How is it possible," He said, "To take such a fascinating subject and screw it all around like this! I don't get it!"

"That's Binns for you." Albus shrugged, leaning back towards his own book, attempting to complete the essay that had been assigned.

With the second week of school began their first real wave of homework. Charms and Transfiguration weren't too bad, since their curriculums only required spell casting at that point (and the teachers didn't want them practicing outside of class until they had at least learned the basics.) But Potions and History of Magic both had essays assigned, Professor Longbottom wanted a haiku on why the venomous tentacula was more dangerous than a rattlesnake, and Defense Against the Dark Arts required they research the tickling charm before next class.

Scorpius had never been so unhappy. A subject with so much potential...degraded to this?

"I'm starting a petition." Scorpius decided.

"What are you gonna petition for?" Albus asked, his interest piqued.

"I want to advocate for a new History of Magic teacher."

Albus stared at him. "But where would Binns go? The dude's a ghost, he exists to teach us."

"I don't care." Scorpius said. His mind was made. "I don't care if we can't kick him out, but the teachers need to realize how terrible he is. Think of all the historians that could be and never will because of him..."

Albus personally did not think the number was high enough to be of consequence to anybody, but Scorpius had made up his mind.

So began project number two of the duo: The Petition of Binn's Removal.

* * *

_Die Roxfort Lexicon - Page 2_

Rubeus Hagrid

The most famous in the line of Hogwarts Gamekeepers, the keepers of the keys and the grounds at Hogwarts. Originally in Gryffindor house, Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts due to false charges that he later cleared. Has a soft spot for "monsters" and other strange creatures that many do not find to be completely safe. Hagrid participated in the great Battle of Hogwarts in 1998, aiding in the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named alongside Harry Potter himself. He is 89 years old as of date of publication.

* * *

Sorry this was somewhat short, but you can hopefully be expecting more soon (to anyone who actually is reading this XD) If you do read, please leave a review, tell me what I can improve on. Helps motivate me to write more :)

And so sorry for no Rose this time around. One of you asked me to put more of her in, and you will be seeing Rose, don't worry. But for the purpose of this story Rose, being in a different house and all, won't be hanging around the duo as much as Hermione did the previous generation. She has her own friends that she is with mostly. But there will be plenty of her! Don't worry ;) She's very important to my plot. (which will pick up soon, I promise)


	5. The First Pebble

Woo another chapter :3

I usually never crank them out this quickly, and it shows. This one is longer than chapter four, but not by much. It's still a thousand words shorter than the previous ones.

Enjoy :)

HP doesn't belong to me, my brother, my parents, my cat, my nonexistent hamster, my other cat, my dog, my invisible cat, or the fly flying around my room at the moment. If I did, I wouldn't be posting on FF dot net. Believe me.

The writing however does belong to me, so don't steal it! NovaMagma at deviantart and pinktwirlz here. ^^

* * *

Breakfast the next morning didn't involve much eating.

Albus, staying true to the Lexicon, was taking his final notes on the Great Hall and its many unique attributes. Scorpius was multitasking. He was editing his History of Magic essay, and at the same time organizing a draft to petition for the removal of Binns. As a result, neither of them had much to eat that morning, so they settled on smuggling pieces of toast to Charms instead.

Charms was taught by a middle aged man named Roman Scratford, who always seemed like he would rather be anywhere than where he was. His classes weren't bad, but at the same time they weren't good either. The last class they had with him they did nothing but read passages from _the Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_ and recite incantations.

That day's class wasn't much different. Scorpius finalized his draft, and Albus took notes on the classroom. They mumbled incantations with the rest of class, and read from book passages. The most exciting thing that happened through the hour was Farris Miller's book refusing to open, and then flip through all the pages at once without stopping. Scratford didn't fix the problem, instead he just gave Farris a new book.

At the end of class, Scorpius went around to the students and started asking for signatures on his petition. At first, people were hesitant.

"What am I signing?" One of them asked.

"I'm trying to kick out Professor Binns." He would say.

This attracted more people.

"What about Professor Binns?" "Who are we kicking out?" "Can we do that?" "I don't know if that's allowed..." "Where do I sign it?" "If I sign this we can kick out Professor Binns?"

Scorpius nodded to most of the questions, and the students flocked to the paper like starving chickens to feed. In the end, he got all the first year Slytherins to sign his petition.

"That's twenty signatures already." He said to Albus later, surprised.

"Professor Binns is just popular at being unpopular I guess." Al commented. Scorpius nodded, his eyes still wide with disbelief.

The next few weeks passed in a trance. Lexicon pages were completed for three of the classrooms, and words of Scorpius's petition efforts spread like a wildfire. Scorpius didn't even have to seek people out anymore; they found him.

As the days went on, so did classes. In Transfiguration, they had moved on from transfiguring colors of objects to transfiguring the objects themselves.

"Transfiguring the pigments of an object is quite different from transfiguration in the conventional sense." Grumman said when they made the switch in units. "This time around, you have to focus directly on the object instead of its attributes. This means understanding the object, what makes it up, and what makes up the result of the transfiguration."

Though most students didn't realize it, Grumman took a very unique approach in his style of transfiguration. The teacher himself was a muggle born, and never attended Hogwarts because as a child, his parents wouldn't allow it. As such, Grumman grew up in a muggle school with muggle children. He majored in science and technology in college, and it was only then that he learned how to use magic. This was partially why he felt so out of place in the magical world.

Once he learned the fundamentals of magic, he applied his knowledge as a scientist to his magical theory. These theories brought a revolutionary way of thinking about transfiguration. Previously, transfiguration worked like apparition. You simply had to want it to happen. This meant people with the strongest emotional responses were generally the best at the subject. If they were passionate enough about what they were doing, the wand would channel that energy into completing the task. Grumman's ideas said this wasn't necessary; if one simply understood and broke down the substance into its base elements, and transfigured those elements to fit the desired result, the task would be much easier. And it certainly showed. Grumman's methods of teaching moved the students along faster than any other transfiguration curriculum.

They started with matchsticks into needles, a tried and true first transfiguration exercise. Albus, like his aunt before him, was the only one who managed to complete the transformation during the class period, earning him fifteen points for his house.

"How many signatures do you have?" Albus asked Scorpius as they left the classroom.

"I haven't run into anyone who hasn't signed it," The Malfoy boy replied. "I've got practically all the Slytherins, and the Hufflepuff first years. There are too many here to count."

"Want to get the Ravenclaws next?" Albus asked.

"Why them in particular?"

"Well Rose could help us talk to them." Al said. "Lots of the other houses don't like Slytherins, so if we had her help they might be more willing." Scorpius nodded in thought.

"That's a good idea." He said. "Which brings up another question.

"How are we going to make Lexicon pages for the other common rooms?" Scorpius asked.

Albus pondered while they walked to the great hall for dinner. "That's a very good question. I don't really know the answer. I suppose we have seven years to figure it out before we graduate."

Scorpius didn't look like he was willing to wait seven years, but he said nothing.

The duo entered the Great Hall with the rest of the Slytherins, but instead of going with their peers, they headed towards the Ravenclaw students and scanned them for Rose's Weasley-orange hair.

Instead, Rose noticed them first and waved them over.

"Hey you two." She called out. Scorpius smiled, and Al nervously nodded in greeting.

"Who're they?" One of the other Ravenclaws asked. Rose turned around on her bench to face her cousin.

"Serena, Tatiana, this is my cousin Albus Potter and his friend Scorpius Malfoy." She gestured to the boys, who nodded at the girls she mentioned. "Al and Scor, Serena Null and Tatiana Julian." Serena was a korean girl with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and Tatiana was a tall brunette with unusually large, but pretty, eyes. Both of them cautiously waved at the Slytherins.

"D'you need something?" Rose asked her cousin. Al passed the floor onto Scorpius, who began to speak.

"I'm the one starting the petition against Professor Binns." He started. Some of the other Ravenclaws looked his way as he said it. "We were wondering if you could help us get support from the Ravenclaws." Rose laughed.

"I should have known it would be you guys." She said. "Yeah, I can help you with that." Scorpius smiled at her, and handed her a copy of the parchment with a brief description of the petition.

"Can you get signatures on this and give it back when you have as many as you can get from your house?" He asked. Rose nodded, quickly adding her own name to the parchment, and handing it to her friends.

"This thing is gonna be popular." Tatiana stated to the boys. They glanced her way. "Especially with the Ravenclaws. We hate Binns more than anyone in the school I'm willing to bet."

"Of course!" Rose giggled. "After all, we're the smart ones. It doesn't do any good to be in school if the teachers can't teach."

When Scorpius and Al left the table, Rose was handing it to everyone down the line. Everyone that it was handed to signed it.

The two headed down to their own table to get dinner before the food disappeared. Scorpius ended up striking a conversation with the Nelson twins over that days Charm's lesson, and Albus busied himself with commandeering what was left of the shepherd's pie before the rest of his house finished it.

The night was a chaotic one. Carson Nelson got into a rather loud game of exploding snap with Farris Miller, and there was quite an ordeal when Taylor's owl broke into the common room and started harassing one of the girls. It was nearly midnight by the time Al finally got to sleep.

* * *

The next day was friday, and friday meant double potions.

It wasn't a class that warranted any particular dread amongst the students, but the attention span of an eleven year old could only stretch so far.

This particular potions class did have a certain significance to it. They were finally about to brew a potion all on their own. In the past few weeks, all they had done was brew small things, and the Professor had guided them all through it. This time around, all they were given was a recipe and instructions to find a partner.

Albus and Scorpius naturally partnered with each other. The recipe on the board was for a muffling draught, and they were told to complete it before the lesson was finished.

In the end, it wasn't a bad lesson. After adding the cat hair, the recipe needed to simmer for a good half hour, so it allowed the duo to talk while they waited. There were even a few Gryffindors who approached them asking about the petition for Binns. Scorpius gave a piece of parchment to one of them, asking if he could get signatures from the Gryffindor house. The poor Gryffindor was hesitant, but once Albus explained the parchment wasn't jinxed he agreed.

The rest of the class went smoothly, up until there were ten minutes left to go.

Most of the students were just adding the finishing touches. Albus and Scorpius admired their handiwork, they felt this potion would at least get them an "Exceeds Expectations" mark. They were just bottling it up when one of the Gryffindor's Muffling Draughts spouted one large bubble, and it splashed nearly everyone in the classroom.

Even when people tried to scream out, they couldn't. Nearly half the students had been drenched with the draught, and their voices no longer seemed to work. The maker of the potion had not been splashed, interestingly enough, and he kept repeating apologies and saying, "I don't understand, I did everything perfectly!"

Sprout let them go with the promise that the draught would wear off overnight, and not for anyone to worry. One thing was fortunate though; with Albus incapacitated, no one could hear him fretting about it.

* * *

"Another potion went wrong?" Macmillan asked.

"I'm sure of it." Sprout responded. She sunk down into one of the staffroom chairs as she said it. "Edward Mustang is one of my top first years, I'm certain he would have followed the recipe perfectly. I don't understand what happened."

"Perhaps he did just make a mistake." Longbottom added. He walked over to the distressed Professor Sprout and handed her a steaming cup of tea. The potions master took it gratefully in her hands, letting the steam clear her head. "They are first years after all."

"You don't understand." Sprout cut back in. "A Muffling Draught is VERY hard to mess up." She took a sip of the tea. "I chose it specifically for my first years for that very reason. You could do all the steps in random order, and the worst that could happen is it might turn an unsatisfactory shade of blue."

"And all the potions have been exhibiting problems throughout all the classes?" Macmillan asked. Sprout nodded.

"Never seen anything like it. Potions don't act this way without very good reason."

Macmillan shook his head in confusion. "Could someone be tampering with the ingredients?"

"I wouldn't put it past that Potter kid." Grumman added in to the discussion. The three teachers gave a start, none of them having noticed he was there. "Sounds like something Potter'd do."

"I'll have a word with James Potter later," Macmillan muttered, lost in thought. "But somehow I don't think that's what's going on." Longbottom and Macmillan caught each other's eyes. Both of those teachers knew from experience never to underestimate any problems occurring at Hogwarts. "For now, there's nothing we can do except wait and see if it subsides. Just remember to watch over the students, make sure nothing extremely dangerous happens. We don't want any serious mishaps."

"Of course, headmaster." Sprout sighed. She tried to take another sip of tea, but her hand slipped and she spilled it all over her robes.

* * *

The weekend came, and with it came the first bout of rain for the grounds at Hogwarts. It couldn't be heard from the Slytherin common room, because the room was underneath the lake. Whenever someone ventured out of the safety of the dungeons it was a constant booming from the walls and ceiling, amplified by the spacious hallways.

Scorpius loved it. He said it created a new "mystique" to the castle. He insisted Albus explore the halls with him again, this time to take notes for the lexicon.

So, just like last Saturday, Albus and Scorpius roamed the halls of the castle. Albus took note from Gareth Olivander, the man who had sold him his wand, and managed to bind pages of parchment together to create a notebook. The mess of papers resembled the paper notebooks muggles often used. The binding wasn't perfect, and the ink from his quill tended to blot together if the pages were pressed for too long, but it was easier than carrying around scrolls wherever they went.

The logical beginning to their exploration would have been the dungeons, but since the rain couldn't be heard from there it took away the point Scorpius had originally made in wanted to explore the halls. So they started from the entrance hall and made their way up the staircase into the various halls that stemmed from it.

The first hallway was the first floor corridor, a hallway that was lined with suits of armor. Albus has heard rumors that the suits of armor could move around, and Scorpius was determined to confirm this. Unfortunately, the armor appeared to be asleep. If not, they were all just determined to ignore the first years' attempts.

Scorpius would try to start a conversation with various suits, and Albus took notes. He took notes on the differences in the suits, and the methods Scorpius would use to get a reaction.

* * *

_First floor - Armor:_

_Determined to remain still._

_Distraction methods used:_

_-Conversation_

_-Questions_

_-Requests for help_

_-Irritating stories_

_-Silly voices_

_-Silly faces_

_-Insults_

_-Insults to its mother_

_-Death threats_

_Effectiveness: Ineffective_

* * *

In the end, they couldn't get any sort of movement from the armor, so they jotted down the various tapestries and left the room.

As they left, Albus was sure he heard snickering.

* * *

_Dear Albus,_

_It's good to hear you are well! And don't worry about James's descriptions, we know how he likes to exaggerate._

_Hohenheim sounds like a lovely name! Ron will be delighted to hear he could contribute to it. He seems like a very nice owl. He made sure not to leave until we had written a satisfactory reply. I'm sure he will make you a loyal companion. _

_Slytherin! Congrats! You will have to keep us up to date on everything that goes on in there. I'm sorry the Gryffindors are being so horrible, but I guess it puts it all in perspective. Times really have changed. _

_And don't worry about being sent to the Hospital Wing either. Your father spent more hours in the Hospital than I care to count._

_With love,_

**_Mom_**

* * *

Was it any good?  
The plot is starting to pick up, so that's a plus. Remember to leave a comment, it motivates me :) Or if you'd like to tell me how I can improve, I'm open any and all suggestions!

And thank you Tom for your comment! I'm responding here since you reviewed anonymously, but it made me happy to read! *hug*

**Oh, I almost forgot. I have a question for you guys. Should I give Albus Harry's invisibility cloak? It would be useful later on if Al got it, but I don't want to overpower him or make him a copy of his dad. James already has the marauder's map at this point, so Al won't have that. But the cloak could also be used to expand the lexicon.**

**Thoughts? Cloak or no cloak?**

Okay, farewell and have a happy life!


	6. The Match

Rise of the Alchemists writing belongs to pinktwirlz at FF dot net and NovaMagma at deviantart.

I do not own Harry Potter names, characters, locations etc.  
If I do, why am I writing fanfiction?  
And why would I claim to own it when I obviously don't?  
Ah, the endless questions...

* * *

"_Lumos_!" Albus yelled. His wand flickered, but soon fizzled out.

"_Lumos_!" He tried again, louder this time. His wand was still uncooperative.

"_LUMOS_." He nearly shouted. However, this didn't have any effect, other than managing to stab Scorpius in the nose with his wand tip.

The two Slytherins had decided to spend Saturday morning studying and finishing their homework. It was Scorpius's idea, and Albus wasn't too fond of it. Since Albus had finished all his homework, all he was left with to do was practice spells and incantations.

Faced with the obvious truth that he needed no practice with Transfiguration, he dedicated their time in the library to learning the Wand-lighting charm, Lumos. The only problem was that Albus hated charms. Even the simplest of them he had trouble mastering. It took two full weeks to learn the levitation charm, putting him behind the entire class.

"Try calming down," Scorpius said, looking up from his Potions report. "Focus your energy on your desired effect. Don't get frustrated with the magic, work _with_ the magic."

Albus glared at Scorpius, but the Malfoy boy had already returned to scrawling about the uses of boomslang. Looking back at his wand, he took a deep breath, and tried to steady his heartbeat.

_One...two...three...four..._ He thought to himself, trying to internalize the pulse. He focused all his energy, every scrap he could find, and cast the spell.

His wand shot a few sparks, and then burst forth in scarlet light, giving Scorpius's hair an amber glow. Scorpius himself looked up, alarmed, at Al's wand.

"Put that out! Put that out!" He cried desperately. Albus looked at him in confusion, and then shouted in alarm when he realized the warmth from the wand had caught one of the library books on fire.

"NOX NOX NOX" He shouted, waving his wand around desperately as Scorpius fumbled around with the _Book of Spells_ trying to find the water making charm. Eventually, Scorpius gave up and stomped the fire out with his foot.

"WHAT IS GOING ON OVER HERE!" The librarian screamed as she hobbled over to the boys. Madame Pince was an extremely old woman with a hooked nose and sallow face. She could be best described as a wrinkled vulture. Albus and Scorpius shrunk away from her piercing gaze, unable to stop themselves from glancing guiltily in the direction of the burnt book.

"What...happened?" She growled at them. By now the scene had gathered the two boys quite a crowd. Gryffindors were snickering at them from behind bookshelves, and a group of Hufflepuff third years were slowly approaching. Other students of all ages were also crowding around the spectacle as best they could without being noticed by the librarian.

"IhadaspellthatwentwrongI'mverysorryMadamePince." Albus whispered, refusing the meet her eye.

"Speak up!"

"I had a spell that...went wrong. I'm sorry." Albus squeaked. Madame Pince glared at him before turning to Scorpius.

"And you! What were you thinking, stamping down on my books like that!"

Scorpius shrunk away from her gaze, and muttered something about putting the fire out.

"You ruined my book in the process!" She yelled. The librarian scooped up the book with her wand, being very careful to maintain whatever integrity the pages still had left.

"I won't give you detention this time, but the next time you so much as bend a corner expect me to be right behind you!" Pince yelled as she hobbled back to her desk to repair the book.

Albus and Scorpius sunk back into their desk; the crowd of students laughed and dispersed. The two boys met each other eyes briefly, and were about to leave the topic alone when Rose and Tatiana showed up at their desks.

"Fancy meeting y'all here!" Rose called out, leaning over the table the boys were slumped on.

"We can't seem to shake you, can we?" Albus muttered. Rose laughed, but Albus was only half joking. Scorpius shot him a look that said, 'Lighten up' so Albus stopped talking.

"You made any progress on the petition?" Scorpius asked in an attempt to steer the conversation.

"As a matter of fact, we did." Rose announced triumphantly. "Tatiana, the paper if you please."

"We got most of the Ravenclaws to sign it." Tatiana said as she handed the paper over to Scorpius. "We may have missed a couple, but if they care strongly enough about it, they should be able to come find you."

Scorpius grinned in gratitude. "Now it's just the rest of the Hufflepuff's and the Gryffindors. And with the match today, it shouldn't be too hard to spread the word." Rose nodded.

_That's right, there's a quidditch match today._ Albus thought to himself. _With all this drama here in the library I almost forgot._

Rose noticed Albus spacing out and cut into his thoughts. "What's gotten your panties in a twist?" She asked.

Al stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean!" Rose just laughed.

"What was the spell you messed up earlier?" She asked, leaning over to look at Al's notes. Albus drew his papers closer to himself protectively.

"It was a wand-lighting charm." He muttered. "I overpowered it."

"I'll say." Tatiana snickered. Rose shot her a look before pulling a chair up next to her cousin.

"I've done that before, you were probably jabbing the wand too violently." She explained, holding up her own as an example. "You are creating light, not lightning. Envision warmth, not heat." She muttered the incantation, waving the wand slightly in a circular motion. The tip of her wand lit up golden yellow and cast a warm light on the four of them.

"Let me try," Albus said. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and spoke out the incantation. "_Lumos_." The tip of his wand flickered golden, but went out like a muggle lightbulb. Scorpius smirked, but tried to hide it.

"Well, you're getting closer." Rose said, her eyes alight with amusement at Albus's frustration.

"Oh, guys!" Tatiana cut in, her large eyes even larger than usual. "The match starts in ten minutes! We should get down to the pitch, or we'll miss it!"

"Oh, right." Rose said. She stood up and was about to follow her friend out the door, but turned around to face the two Slytherins.

"Meet me here tomorrow after lunch, Al, we'll work on it more." She added. She then left Al and Scorpius to scramble for their books as they followed the girls out to the pitch.

* * *

"Wow! Look at all the people!" Scorpius marveled as they walked onto the quidditch pitch.

It was true, Albus realized. There were more people on the pitch than he had ever seen, and the effect was amplified by the fact that they towered over him on the tall stands.

This was the first quidditch match of the season. Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Albus and Scorpius of course were rooting for Slytherin, but Albus was also interested in the match because his brother James was on the Gryffindor team. Albus had seen James fly many times before at home, but never before in an actual game. It was a talent that Albus often wondered at, since Al himself had little to no flying ability.

"Look, the teams are warming up." Scorpius pointed to the players tossing muggle playing balls back and forth in the air. Scorpius watched them with envy as they rode their broomsticks.

"Are you gonna try out next year?" Albus asked Scorpius.

Every week the first years had more flying lessons, and Scorpius seemed to be a natural flyer. He was easily the most talented of all the Slytherins, and still improving. It wasn't too much of a surprise. Most wizarding families raise their children to play quidditch, simply for lack of other wizarding sport to play. Albus and James had grown up like this, so it seemed natural the Scorpius did too. Especially since Scorpius's father, just like Al's, had been a well known seeker during his time at Hogwarts.

"I might try out." Scorpius said. "But students from all the years will be trying for the positions."

"Well keep practicing." Albus shrugged. "I'd root for you." Scorpius laughed, but smiled in genuine appreciation.

"Well look who it is!" Cut another voice into the conversation. "The wonder duo! Haven't seen you around the school lately, Ally boy."

Albus groaned as his older brother, James, leaned on Al's shoulder in his full red and gold uniform. James sported a signature smirk as Albus pulled away from the grip.

"Hullo James." He said, rolling his eyes. Scorpius chuckled under his breath. Being an only child, watching James and Albus interact was hilarious entertainment for him.

"Come to watch us wipe the floor with you Slytherin prats?" James asked. Al pointedly looked away.

"Oh fine then, take all the spirit out of it." James complained. He instead turned to Scorpius. "How bout you, Scor? Haven't seen you in a while either."

"_Scorpius_. If you don't mind." The Malfoy corrected. "And yes, it has been a while. It's nice to see you."

"He knows his manners, that one." James mock whispered in Al's ear. "You could learn a thing or two from him."

"Shove off, James!" Albus yelled. The crowds of people milling about them, making their way to the stands, turned in his direction. Albus shied away from the looks until they kept moving on.

"All right all right calm down." James laughed. "No need to get so antsy."

"You think you're so special don't you!" Albus hissed. "You arrogant Gryffindor prat–"

"Better a Gryffindor prat than a slimy _Slytherin_." James rebutted, a smirk still on his face.

Albus looked like he had a few more choice words to say, but Scorpius grabbed him by the arm before he got a chance. Scorpius muttered a farewell, and then pulled Albus into the crowds to keep moving towards the stands.

James snorted to himself as he walked away from his brother. In truth, he didn't much care what house Albus was sorted into, but he loved exploiting Al's anxieties. The reactions were simply priceless. Still, it was interesting that Al seemed to have made such easy friends with the Malfoy kid.

James's thoughts were interrupted when the team captain Liam Tarneel called him over into the dressing room.

"James! Where have you been?" Liam asked frantically. "Oh never mind, just get in here, finish getting your gear on. The game starts in ten."

James muttered something in the way of an apology before hurrying into the dressing room. The rest of the team was there, some of the newer members pacing, and the older ones just looking bored. James grabbed his bat from the bench, and went to sit next to the other Gryffindor beater, Jones Londrow, who was also a third year. He and Jones bumped fists, and Liam came back into the room.

"All righty, first game of the season everyone." Liam started, his hands shaking. Liam was a chaser, and one of the best chasers the team had ever seen, and had firm leadership skills at practices and during matches. But he had a tendency of succumbing to his nerves when he was stressed, especially before important games.

"Is it going to rain later?" Tori Mueller, another chaser asked. James glanced out to the sky. It wasn't raining, but the sky was dotted with October clouds.

Liam nodded at her. "It is a possibility, and it puts us at a disadvantage. The Slytherins are used to playing in the rain, they practice in it."

"We'll be fine." James added cockily. "We've got the best team in the school, don't worry about it."

Liam nodded gratefully, before turning to the seeker, Fred Weasley.

Fred was a cousin of James's. He had the trademark red hair and freckles of a Weasley (like his father and late namesake uncle) but his skin had a brown tinge to it, inherited from his mother Angelina.

"Make sure you stay on top of things, Fred." Liam said, his brown hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. "If we lose this game, we'll be set behind for the entire season."

"Don't worry," Fred smirked. "I can't wait to see the look on their faces when we wipe the floor with them."

"That's the spirit!" Liam laughed. "Now team, to the pitch!"

James and Jones bumped their bats together as they followed Liam out to the center of the field. James beamed at the roar of cheers that erupted at their arrival. He quickly scanned the Slytherin side of the stands for his brother, but they were too far away for him to see. He decided against aiming a bludger at him; he'd probably get in trouble.

Liam and the captain and seeker of the Slytherin team–Maddock Farley–shook hands. James winked at Fred before kicking off into the sky at Madame Nanther's whistle. He managed to get the first hit at the bludger, nearly knocking Nova Miller, a Slytherin beater, off her broom.

"And they're off!" A voice boomed throughout the stadium came the commentator, Freda Vallery. Vallery was a Ravenclaw fourth year with hair so blond it could be seen all the way across the stadium.

"Looks like Potter managed to get the first hit on that bludger, look at the devil go! The Slytherins had better watch out, it seems to be chasing after Archer. Oh, the quaffle is on the move! Here comes Tucker, dodging all the other chasers...Ah very nice hit Ms Nord! A bludger has thrown Tucker off his game...Markus Reid has it and it sending it the opposite direction...A score for Slytherin!"

James cursed. He swung his bat around, and shot one of the bludgers forcefully at Rubie Nord, the other Slytherin beater. She dodged it and stuck her tongue out at him. There was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end of the stands.

The game carried on quickly as the sky started to drizzle. Neither Fred nor Maddock seemed to have caught sight of the snitch, but they both kept searching. James kept an eye out for it as well, and at the same time worked with Jones to corner some of the chasers with the bludgers. They had almost managed to knock one of the Slytherin chasers off her broom, but other than that they hadn't made much progress.

The game stretched on for forty long minutes, and Gryffindor was starting to pull ahead. Vallery managed to make sure that it never got boring, and kept the crowd on their toes. The rain also helped as a change of pace. It seemed to have an on/off switch somewhere, because the sky couldn't seem to decide which it liked more.

"The Slytherins and Gryffindors stand even at fifty-fifty, the quaffle must have switched possession ten times in the last minute! Oh, could this be it? Archer has the quaffle, look at him go! Racing down the pitch, dodges Londrow's bludger...there he goes! Ten points to Slytherin! Looks like the Gryffindor beater's aren't too happy about that...very nice aim Potter! Farley almost fell off his broom with that one, right in the tail bristles! And still no sign of the snitch by either of the seekers."

No sooner than Vallery had announced this than James noticed a flash of gold soar by his head. And he wasn't the only one. He had to spin around in an elaborate roll to avoid being trampled by Fred, who was after it.

Farley, who was on the other side of the pitch, made a beeline for Fred. Unfortunately, the wind was on Farley's side. The oaf was about to reach the golden snitch when his broom started bucking.

"What's this? A broom malfunction?" Vallery called out. Gasps resounded all across the stadium. Broom malfunctions were extremely rare, and extremely dangerous. The entire game almost came to a halt as they turned to watch Farley hold on for dear life.

"Someone help the fellow!" Vallery called out.

James pulled up to Jones, and yelled, "Can't they stop it?" into the other beater's ear.

"Not until the match ends!" He called out. "Casting spells during a game is illegal!"

James gritted his teeth. Farley was losing his grip on the handle. James didn't care much about the stupid bloke, but serious injuries in quidditch meant concerned parents, inquiries, delays, and all sorts of legal things that got in the way of the games.

Fred luckily knew this too, and sped towards the snitch like a starving man to a charbroiled steak.

Just at the moment when Farley was thrown from his broom, Fred's fingers closed in around the snitch. Cheers and yells surrounded the players from all sides as Fred held up his golden prize to the stands.

Meanwhile, Farley was plummeting towards the ground. Luckily, the Slytherin seeker was not hurt, because half the professors watching all aimed cushioning charms at the ground below him.

The two teams lowered themselves down to the ground. The Slytherins immediately rushed towards their captain, who–despite the cushioning charm–was unconscious. The Gryffindors also converged together, all of them asking questions none of them knew the answer to.

Liam silenced all the questions, asking one of his own. "What the heck happened to him? And why didn't it happen to any of us?"

The team looked around at themselves, and shrugged in response.

"This isn't good." Liam continued. "If they can't identify the problem with his broom, it could pose a problem for the rest of the matches."

"They can't do that!" Jones cut in. "It was just one broom. It might not affect the rest of us."

"We don't know that." Liam said. "I don't want to stop the matches any more than you do. Is everyone sure we don't know anything about it?"

James and the others shook their heads.

James had heard stories about his father's first quidditch match when his Nimbus had started to buck. But it took a curse from a dark lord to tamper with the broom. In the two and a half decades since that incident, the quality of broom making had been significantly increased to make sure incidents like that one didn't happen.

"But James," Fred cut in, his face a look of contemplation. "Didn't you hit Farley with a bludger back there?"

James paused, and then nodded. "I hit the tail of his broom. But that's not enough to make a broom act up like that."

"Are you sure?" Liam asked. James nodded firmly.

"And even if it was, you know he wouldn't endanger his spot on the team by hexing another player." Jones added. James nodded to the beater gratefully.

"Potter." A voice called out from behind the Gryffindors. James turned around to be faced by Professor Macmillan.

"You come with me." He said. James turned to look at Liam, who shrugged apologetically. As James followed the headmaster, Fred automatically ran up next to him. Macmillan looked like he was about to protest to Fred's presence, but decided against it and kept walking up to the school.

The three of them kept going until they reached an empty classroom. Macmillan led them in, and then closed the door behind them.

The two third years, in their quidditch robes with brooms still in hand, faced the headmaster. Macmillan sighed, pulled up one of the chairs and sat down.

"Did you tamper with Farley's broom?" Macmillan asked James. He looked more tired than accusatory. James shook his head. "You did hit him with a bludger. Could that have caused it?"

"If it did, it wasn't intentional." James said. "Is that the only reason we're here?"

"No." said Macmillan. "What else have you two been up to lately?"

"What do you mean?" Fred asked.

"Tampering with anything; experimenting with spells?"

"What are you accusing us of, Professor?" James asked, eyes narrowed.

Macmillan stared right on back, unfazed by James's glare. "I'm not accusing you of anything."

"Doesn't sound that way to us." Fred added.

Macmillan sighed again before standing up and heading towards the door. "If you don't know what I mean, then it isn't a problem. You two get cleaned up."

Fred and James stared after the headmaster as he walked away.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Fred asked. "I mean, our record isn't clean, but..."

"That pompous prat." James muttered. He glanced over at his partner in crime, who looked deep in thought.

"What if this has something to do with the Potions mishap the other day?" Fred brainstormed. "Maybe he thinks we're messing with enchantments around the school."

"That's ridiculous."

"To us, maybe, because we know we didn't. To him..."

James glared at his friend before admitting defeat. "You're probably right, as usual. C'mon, let's get back to the common room. It's been a long day."

Fred nodded, and the two of them headed off to the dormitories, doubtlessly to be greeted by the celebration waiting for them in the common room.

* * *

The Slytherin common room that night was not alight with celebration like their Gryffindor rivals. Instead, all the Slytherins were staying awake complaining about cheating Gryffindors and worrying about their bedridden seeker.

Scorpius and Albus sat off to the side. They weren't talking much, but they were both thinking about the incident at the pitch.

"Oi, Potter!" A voice called out from the other end of the room. Albus looked up to see a sixth year girl addressing him.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"It was your brother who hit Maddock's broom with his bludger, right?" She asked. The people around her nodded and murmured agreement, all of them turning to face Albus. "Reckon he coulda cursed him to win the match?"

Albus shied away from all the looks his way. This was something he had indeed been thinking about, and he told the sixth year what his conclusion was after his contemplation.

"I know my brother." He started. "And I don't think he would have hexed him. He wouldn't endanger his position on the team. And even if he wanted to, tampering with a broom is way beyond his skill level."

"Well you can't argue with that I suppose." The sixth year snorted before turning back to her friends.

Scorpius looked back at Albus, who was relieved to draw the attention away from himself.

"Do you think someone did hex Maddock?" Albus asked. Scorpius shrugged.

"I don't think so. It takes pretty powerful magic to tamper with a broom. They aren't just any ordinary object." Scorpius said. Albus nodded.

"You're probably right. But if that's true, then what _did_ happen to Farley?"

* * *

_Die Roxfort Lexicon - Page 3_

**First Floor Corridor**

Accessible from the Grand Staircase, the first floor corridor is lined with suits of armor, various tapestries, and a portrait of Herpo the Foul. It connects to the stone bridge, and passes the entrance to the middle courtyard.

There have been rumors that the suits of armor are capable of movement. This has yet to be confirmed.

**Notes on the armor:**

Determined to remain still.

**Distraction methods used:**

-Conversation

-Questions

-Requests for help

-Irritating stories

-Silly voices

-Silly faces

-Insults

-Insults to its mother

-Death threats

**Effectiveness:** Ineffective

* * *

How'd y'all like it?

The last chapter I power wrote over a couple of days. This one I worked on continuously over a couple of weeks, so it _is_ longer.

About the chap; sorry for so little Albus. But I needed the quidditch match in there, and it's not as exciting reading from the stands. Besides, I've been wanting an excuse to use James for a while ;)

So in this story, Fred Weasley II and James Potter II are partners in crime almost. They basically take after their namesakes and roam the school with the Marauder's map. Unfortunately, ROTA won't be seeing much more from their point of view because I want the focus to be on Albus and Scorpius.

Also, about the cloak. The general consensus (from the few of you that responded) is that yes, Al does get the cloak! (I don't know if I expected y'all to say otherwise...it was kinda obvious what the answer was gonna be)

He won't get it right away, but expect it soon-ish. Like, within a few chapters.

And thank you to all who reviewed! :D Means a lot, seriously.

Anyway,

Have a nice life!

* * *

PS: Any Star Trek Enterprise fans out there? Yeah, I shamelessly used names from it. Again, regret nothing.


	7. Halloween

Woo! Sorry for the delay, school has been coming to a close. So you know what that means? TESTS. AND PROJECTS. AND SO MUCH HOMEWORK.

So I've been working on this in like 10 minute increments, and it took me a while to churn out. But I haven't forgotten about it, don't worry! And your comments helped motivate me :)

Here you go!

* * *

The morning was rainy.

Albus has had quite enough of the rain, thankyouverymuch. He didn't care how much Scorpius enjoyed the ghostly echo of castle, it was about time for the sun to start shining, or the snow to start falling. Anything to get rid of the insistent rain.

The first class that Monday was Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class which Albus loathed on the best of occasions. Coupled with the fact that it was raining oceans outside, it was safe to say that Albus was not a very happy camper that morning.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a class everyone expected Albus to be good at. But then, there were lots of things people expected from Albus, and many of which he had yet to follow through with. So the first day of practicals, the teacher, Professor Wolpert, had high hopes for the young Potter boy. Until Albus set his own wand on fire and they had to evacuate the classroom until the fire could be put out.

He and Scorpius walked into the classroom that morning, and Albus let his mind drift off as the Professor began to talk about jinxes and hexes. Scorpius had to elbow him in the side to make sure he didn't miss the important information.

"Albus, what if the exams cover this?" Scorpius scolded as Al began to doze off again. "Pay attention."

"You're not my mom." Albus hissed back. Scorpius didn't say anything else so he wouldn't set off Al's foul mood, but glared out of the corner of his eyes every now and then.

"All right, who can tell me the incantation for a knockback jinx?" Professor Wolpert asked. The students looked back and forth amongst each other, but no one offered an answer. "Okay, who can tell me what a knockback jinx is?"

"A jinx...that knocks you back?" Said Farris Miller from the other end of the room, earning him some light chuckles from his peers. Wolpert smirked, and nodded.

"In essence, yes. A knockback jinx is simple and useful in certain situations, but not particularly harmful. Casted correctly, it only throws the victim back a pace or two, or makes them stumble a bit." He picked up his wand, and showed the class a certain jabbing motion with it. "Everyone, pick up your wands and try this."

Albus and Scorpius raised their wands, and tried to imitate Wolpert's movements. Albus almost lost his grip on his, but for the most part it seemed simple enough.

"The incantation is _Flippendo." _Wolpert continued. "Put your wands down before saying it, we don't want to trigger anything unpleasant. Yes, _Flippendo. _Flip-end-oh. Yes very good. Now, all of you split up into partners and spread out across the room, and we can try it together."

All at once, the first years stood from their seats. Wolpert levitated the desks over to the side of the classroom, and the pairs of students took their spots throughout the area. Albus noticed that most of them were edging as far away from Albus and Scorpius as possible. A_nd for good reason._ He though grudgingly.

"Lighten up, Albus." Scorpius whispered. "If you keep fuming like this you'll overcharge the spell, and it won't end well for anybody."

Albus glared at his friend, but sighed in defeat when he realized Scorpius was right. Albus took a few deep breaths, and then spread apart from Scorpius in the practice dueling stance.

"Okay, everyone choose one partner to go first. On my count, you will cast the jinx at the other person. Remember, _Flippendo._" Scorpius raised his wand at Albus. Albus lowered his, but tensed up, bracing for the impact of the incoming jinx. Wolpert counted to three, and half the students in the room simultaneously stumbled, Albus one of them. None of them had lost footing, but it was enough to make a few students slightly dizzy,

"Good, very good!" Wolpert congratulated. "Exactly what I expected of you! All right, next partners up!"

It was Scorpius's turn to tense up when Albus raised his wand to the Malfoy. On Wolpert's count, he let the jinx fly. It was a weak bolt, and not enough to make Scorpius stumble, but it did make him sway a bit. Both partners were relieved that nothing worse had come of it.

The next half hour passed by similarly. Wolpert led the next few castings, and then let them practice on their own. Most of the students progressed well, managing to knock their targets back two or three feet with every impact.

They were just about to wrap up when a jinx sent by Carson Nelson missed the target and went soaring straight for Albus. The jinx not only sent him flying back, but he flew upwards towards the ceiling.

This wouldn't have been much of a problem, except Albus didn't fall back down.

"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod somebodypleasegetmedownI'mstuckontheceilinggoodgod Scorpiuspleasegetsomebodytohelpme" screamed Albus, his eyes wide with terror. Some of the students laughed, others of them gasped, but it was only Wolpert who did anything to help.

It didn't take long to get Albus down, all it took were a pair of cushions and a "_Finite Incantatem," _but it left Al extremely shaken. Scorpius was still laughing about it when they left the classroom.

"It wasn't even me this time!" Albus growled. "Even when I'm doing perfectly well, something ALWAYS manages to happen."

"Why are you so jumpy today?" Scorpius asked. "It's unlike you."

Albus sighed and refused to meet Scorpius's eyes. In truth, he didn't know why he was so bitter. He figured the rain must just be getting to him.

They made their way towards the great hall to scoop up lunch before all the good food disappeared. As they sat down, Albus started spooning bread and leftover eggs onto his plate and Scorpius rummaged through his bag for the petition papers.

"Thanks to your cousin, and then the match last Saturday, we finally have the signatures needed to make an impact on the headmaster." Scorpius looked excited as he spoke. Albus was only partially listening, he was too invested in his egg sandwich to care much about Scorpius's triumph. "I wonder how they'll take it when they see all the signatures?"

Albus swallowed his mouthful of egg to respond. "Even if they do buy it, what makes you think they have the power to do anything about it? He's a ghost, he can't exactly be sacked, can he?"

"Well we might be able to reach some sort of compromise." Scorpius said, folding the parchment back into his bag. "It's better to try and fail rather than not try at all."

"How poetic." Al muttered. "When are you gonna talk to Macmillan?"

"Not today, seeing as it's Halloween. The teachers have too much on their plates right now to pay any attention to this kind of thing. Maybe sometime this or next week." Scorpius said, finally grabbing for a bowl of pasta to eat. "You're coming with me by the way."

"What? Why?"

"I'm the brains of this operation. You're my muscle. I need the backup."

That actually got Albus laughing, and his spirits were lifted enough to enjoy the rest of his meal without his morning's angst.

Lunch was almost over, and the students were hustling to get back to class. In the confusion, Farris knocked a glass of pumpkin juice across the table, managing to soak through at least three book bags. Farris yelled out apologies to anyone who would listen, but Nott managed to appease him by offering to clean up the spill.

"_Scourgify_" Nott muttered. A beam of light surrounded the orange liquid, and it looked like it was about to clear up, until the light surrounded the entire table.

"Damn!" Nott yelled. "Everyone back up!"

The few people with soaked bags clutched their belongings and darted away just in time to watch every utensil and plate on the table come crashing down to the floor below it.

"You vanished the entire table!" Gwen Robins screamed out. Nott looked at the broken tableware in horror. The other three houses erupted in laughter at the dumbstruck Slytherins.

"He didn't vanish it!" Albus yelled out. "He transfigured it! Look!"

Everyone followed Al's pointed finger to a rather startled cat, its fur the same color as the wood of the table. Even the Slytherins started chuckling this time, but the teachers that had come down to see what was going on were less than thrilled about the situation.

Some questions and transfigurings later on the teachers' part, the Slytherins all managed to set off to their next classes.

"Potions next." Scorpius said. Albus brightened up a little at the news. He had a talent for the brewing of potions, which was a surprise to him because he had never shown much skill at it before school had started.

They made their way down to the dungeons, and as they descended further into the castle the pounding of the rain faded off into the distance. When they reached the Potions classroom, the Slytherins and Gryffindors took their usual seats on opposite ends of the classroom. The students were just pulling out their standard brewing ingredients and equipment when Professor Sprout entered the room.

"Hello class!" She called out, dumping an armful of scrolls onto her desk before making her way to the chalkboard. "You can put the ingredients away, we're only doing book work this time."

A couple of the students groaned, Albus with them. Most of the others just cast confused glances at their peers.

"Follow the instructions on the board, and I'll leave you to it!" said Sprout as she finished writing on the board.

"What does it say?" Said Albus. Because he wore reading glasses, his long distance vision wasn't as good as it could be when he had them on. Scorpius squinted at it before responding.

"We have to read about the twelve uses of dragon blood and answer questions on it. It's page two hundred in the textbook."

Albus pulled out _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and flipped to the said page. It was a ten page long article on the history of dragons and discovery of the twelve uses. He pulled out a piece of parchment and copied the questions down.

"Why do you think we're doing theory today?" Scorpius asked in a hushed tone. Most everyone in the class was working in partners, so the room was filled with chatter, and as such their conversation went unnoticed. "Last week Sprout said we were doing hair-dying today."

"Maybe she ran out of material." Albus suggested. He looked down at the first question: _What qualities does dragon blood possess that basilisk blood does not?_

"It is odd though, don't you think?" Scorpius continued as he wrote down the answer. "Dragon blood is completely random for right now, the curriculum has nothing to do with it."

Albus wasn't paying much attention, instead he was copying the answer Scorpius had written. "Oh just go along with it. There could be any number of reasons."

"What if there was an accident or something?" Albus glanced up at Scorpius. Did he look excited? Of course he did. If there was anything that Scorpius loved most, it was a mystery to explore.

"I'm sure everyone's fine." _What is the most controversial aspect of red versus green coloring of dragon blood?_

"Wouldn't you rather know instead of guess?"

Albus sighed. "Not particularly." _What works of famous literature have been created on the topic of dragons blood?_

"Oh c'mon." Scorpius whined. "Where's your sense of adventure? Isn't that what Hogwarts is supposed to be about? Solving mysteries, fighting evil..."

"If you want adventure, we have our hands completely full with the Lexicon." Albus pointed out. "We were gonna go plot the Astronomy tower tomorrow, remember?" _If you had to choose your favorite use of dragon's blood, what would it be?_

"Okay, what is up with these questions?" Albus finally exclaimed under his breath. "They are so random!"

"Exactly." Scorpius hissed.

* * *

"_Lumos._" Albus muttered. The tip of his wand lit up in a bright yellow glow, illuminating the face of his cousin.

"Perfect!" Rose exclaimed. "Took you long enough."

"Thanks for your encouragement." Albus muttered, but there was an amused smirk in his voice.

Albus, Rose, and Scorpius were sitting in the library. Rose, as promised, was tutoring Albus in the various spells he had been having trouble with lately. Scorpius was reading _Hogwarts, a History _to himself, but often offered input on whatever it was Albus was doing wrong.

"What do you need to work on now?" Rose asked. Albus shrugged, and cast a glance at Scorpius for confirmation.

"I haven't quite mastered _Flippendo_ yet, but it's not a spell to practice in the library." Albus said.

"What classes did you two have today besides Defense Against the Dark Arts?" said Rose as she flipped through her homework assignments.

"Potions, but all we did was written work." Albus explained. Rose looked up.

"You too, huh?" she said. "It was the same for me last Friday. The other classes have stopped brewing things too. They reckon all we're going to be doing for a while is book stuff."

"Why is that?" Albus asked, the disappointment clear on his face.

"All the potions have been acting up." Rose said.

"Yeah, remember Edward Mustang's muffling draught?" Scorpius added in.

"It's not just that though." She continued. "Spells and potions are going wrong all around the school. Haven't you noticed?"

"You mean like this morning, with the table?" Scorpius asked. Rose nodded.

"How many _scourgify_s turn the recipients into cats?" She said.

"She has a point." Al fretted. "What if something really bad happens and we get kicked out?"

"Don't get paranoid." Scorpius muttered. "Besides, the teachers are looking into it. I overheard Professor Holmes and Professor Sinistra talking about it."

"I have to get going." Rose said, looking at her watch. "I promised Serena I would go with her to the Owlry before the feast."

"Okay." Albus said. "While you're there, can you make sure Hohenheim is okay? I haven't gone to visit him lately."

Rose waved her hand at him to let him know she heard, and then walked off without saying anything else.

"She does that a lot, doesn't she?" Scorpius said as he watched her go. Albus nodded.

"She has a flair for the dramatic I think." He put in. "We still have an hour or two before the feast starts, and I don't have any homework left. Want to go exploring?"

Scorpius looked tempted, but shook his head.

"No, if we want to work on the Lexicon we need to work on compiling notes into pages before exploring any more through the castle." He said. "We still have to finish the classroom descriptions for Charms and Transfiguration. And we promised the Fat Friar we'd show him his page once it's done, and we haven't even started."

Albus shut the spellbook he had open and tried to levitate it back onto the shelf. He succeeded, but only at the price of knocking another one over. Sighing, he walked over to the book and put it back in its place.

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired of writing things down." Said Albus. Scorpius seemed to agree, and started putting his work back into his bag.

"Well Hagrid said we could help him set up for the feast if we wanted to." He offered. "Want to go find him?"

Albus paused, and after a moments consideration consented to this idea. The two grabbed their bags and headed off to the Great Hall.

It didn't take them long to reach it from the Library, and when they looked into the Great Hall it appeared they had only just started to decorate. The charms teacher, Professor Scratford, was leading a small group of fourth years in carving Jack-O-Lanterns with their wands, and Professor Grumman was standing atop a very large stepladder working on changing the weather spell on the ceiling into a dark and stormy atmosphere. Sitting at the front of the hall was Headmaster Macmillan having a whispered discussion with the school healer–Mister Watson–while he oversaw the decorating. Hagrid himself was hanging enchanted bats from the walls while he carted pumpkins to Scratford.

Albus and Scorpius hurried in, trying their best to stay unnoticed. They scurried over to Hagrid, who beamed at the sight of them.

"I had hoped yeh would show up!" He said. "Come ter help with the decorating?"

"If that's all right." Scorpius asked politely. Hagrid waved his hand jovially.

"The more th' merrier! I could really use some help mesself. Ol' Scratford over there has his team o' students, but none o' them ever think o' me." He set down his bag of bats on the nearest table and beckoned for the two Slytherins to follow him.

They set their bags down and followed the old half-giant to the other end of the room. Hagrid reached into a large burlap sack and started pulling out rolls of parchment and various random materials (a plastic bag full of dead cockroaches, streamers that wriggled around like snakes, bouncy balls enchanted to look like eyeballs, etc.).

And so Albus and Scorpius spent the next hour as Hagrid's personal henchmen. They carted bugs over to the tables, hung streamers from the windows, and they even helped Professor Scratford with his pumpkins.

"You two are good grunt workers." Scratford had complimented them. When his fourth years had finished carving each of the pumpkins Albus would distort and enlarge them, and send them to Scorpius who levitated them into the air.

* * *

"Look at them." Headmaster Ernie Macmillan muttered under his breath. Mister Watson glanced up from his writings and followed the headmaster's gaze towards the two Slytherin first years, who were in the midst of hurling pumpkin innards at each other.

"That's the Potter kid, isn't it?" Watson asked. "I had him in the wing a couple weeks ago. That broomstick accident."

"I remember." Macmillan acknowledged. "Harry Potter's son, bad at flying. Strange, isn't it?"

"He is a Weasley too." The healer reminded him.

"All the more reason to be surprised. He comes from a line of Gryffindors, all of them Quidditch players, gifted at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and here comes little Albus Potter, the first Slytherin of the lot. What makes him different?"

Mister Watson, having never known Harry Potter during his days at school, simply shrugged at the headmaster. The two then continued their previous discussion without mention of Albus Potter again.

* * *

The feast turned out to be a fantastic event.

The duo had stayed in the Great Hall right up until all the houses started trickling in. The hall had undergone a certain transformation during the time it took to decorate it. The weather outside was a light drizzle, but the ceiling reflected dark lightning storms. Bats hung in all the crevices, popped out from under tables, streamers wrapped themselves around the arms of the students when they weren't looking. The normal candles that usually floated above their heads had been replaced with the Jack-O-Lanterns, each one uniquely carved and enchanted so no two pumpkins were alike. The ghosts also had tremendous fun in scaring the daylights out of the first years by coming up through the plates. There was even an incident where one of the Gryffindors brought a jar of serpents in the hall with the intent of scaring some of the younger Slytherins. That was a terrible fiasco for the Gryffindors, because the snakes refused to touch the Slytherins and let themselves be instructed to chase the Gryffindors down by a particularly frightening Slytherin seventh year.

"Oh don't worry about them," The seventh year had said about the scared Gryffindors as the snakes coiled themselves around the students' ankles. "They won't hurt nobody, and they had it comin to them."

Albus and Scorpius ate their fill and laughed with their fellow Slytherins. Their table all took great fun in making faces at the other houses, making hissing noises, and muttering fake enchantments under their breath.

"Why do you suppose everyone here enjoys freaking out the other houses?" Scorpius asked Albus during dessert. "No one here is actually as bad as they pretend to be."

"Maybe everyone here just has inferiority complexes." Albus said. "Besides, it is sort of fun. Playing the bad guy. You get to go against what everyone expects."

"I suppose. Oh, hey," Scorpius stopped mid-thought. "You dropped one of your books."

"Huh?"

"On the ground there."

Albus turned, and sure enough, there was a book on the ground lying not far from his bag. He leaned over to pick it up and read the title out loud.

"E_ncoding the Uncodable: A Beginner's Guide to Ciphers and Encryptions."_ He said. "This isn't mine, it's some sort of Ancient Runes textbook." Scorpius took it from Al's hands and leafed through it.

"There isn't a single rune in here." He said. "You sure it isn't yours?"

Albus nodded his head. "Does it have a name in it?"

Scorpius checked the covers. "Doesn't look like it."

Albus took the book back and pocketed it. "Who knows, maybe it'll come in handy." He said. "We can figure out where it came from later."

Scorpius looked uneasy at the idea, but said nothing.

Later, when they returned to the dormitory, Albus put the book in his bag with the rest of his supplies.

The next morning, it was gone.

* * *

_Die Roxfort Lexicon - Page 4_

**Hogwarts Ghosts**

Hogwarts is one of the few places in the wizarding world that is able to harbor ghosts for any extended period of time. Many believe this is because of all the excess magic that the school has absorbed, making it possible for ghosts to "survive" without the need for haunting or possessing to take in energy. Each house has one certain ghost, while other ghostly residents come and go as they see fit to. Most are well tempered folk eager to point new students in the right direction.

**List of Permanent Ghostly Residents Within Hogwarts**

-Sir Nicholas De Mimsy Porpington (aka Nearly Headless Nick)- Ghost of Gryffindor Tower. Died 1492 by beheading.

-Helena Ravenclaw (aka the Ghost of the Grey Lady) - Ghost of Ravenclaw Tower - Died early 1002 century by knife.

-Redmund Perkins (aka the Fat Friar) - Hufflepuff House Ghost. Died 1340 by Execution.

-Nelson Barrymore (aka the Bloody Baron) - Ghost of Slytherin House. Died 1002 by suicide.

-Myrtle Mason (aka Moaning Myrtle) - Ghost of the First Floor Girls' Toilets. Died 1943 by Basilisk gaze.

-Cuthbert Binns - History of Magic Professor. Died 1867 by natural causes.

-Lord Donald Draben - Ghost of the Cavalier. Died 1666 by loss of duel.

-Edgar Cloggs - Ghost of the Quidditch pitch. Died 1709 by head injury.

-Remund Edgar (aka the Black Night) - Died in 1342 by arrow to the head.

-Amberose Swatt - Died 1724 of liver poisoning

Any ghosts found in Hogwarts that are not on this list are not permanent residents of the school. There are ghosts who come to visit the school from time to time, sometimes for parties, or just to recharge on the excess magical energy the school possesses. _The Ghostly Gazette_ listed Hogwarts as number 3 in the list of "Most Charitable Haunting Sites in the World," second only to Atlantis and Buckingham Palace.

* * *

HP doesn't belong to me yadayadayada. The writing does though so no touchy. Also, most of the ghost dates are from Harry potter wikia. That site is my bible for this fic.

(Anyone notice the sherlock holmes cameos in there? XD Unfortunately they won't be anything more than cameos and a mention here and there, I just suck at coming up with original names.)

Plot will hopefully start speeding up by next chapter, but I hope you enjoyed this one!

Nova is out. Peace.


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